


A Respectable Man

by PerfectlyNervousBeard19507



Series: The Reluctant Fiancé [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectlyNervousBeard19507/pseuds/PerfectlyNervousBeard19507
Summary: Everything has changed for Philip and Henry. How will they relate to each other now that their relationship is different? They continue to strive to create their best lives in these new circumstances, and challenges arise that threaten to destroy what they cherish most.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Reluctant Fiancé [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980442
Comments: 73
Kudos: 67





	1. A New Life

I was awoken in the morning by the sound of two carriage drivers yelling at each other. Horses whinnied. It was far more noisy than I was used to but I would adjust soon enough. Our new house was closer to the street with no winding carriage drive or luxurious gardens to block the sounds of the city at our doorstep. We weren’t quite deep enough into town to hear the market stall owners hawk their wares--the “pitious boulevards of the hoi polloi” as Father called it--but certainly closer. I yawned, stretched, and smiled as Mary, one of our two new maids--Mother’s “Ladies of all tasks,” since they had to take care of everything now--poured tepid water into the washing stand and departed. 

Slowly, I slid my feet into worn slippers and observed myself in the small mirror. My hair was still messy from a night spent wandering the market in nothing but shirtsleeves and britches. I hoped to take Billy back there today on a walk, if Margaret would allow. 

I pulled a linen shirt from the worn clothes press and put it on, sliding back into yesterday’s britches. There was no one to notice or care about how I looked. Henry was now engaged to Oliver, soon to be Marquess of Metley, and myself and my parents had  _ disengaged  _ from polite society (that is, polite society threw my parents out on their self-important arses and me with them) and moved house to a place we could afford with what was left of the money the Shawduns paid for breaking off the engagement. It was smaller and darker, and closer to the dreaded common folk. We had only two maids now, no butlers or other staff. Outside, a small bit of cobblestone received carriages when necessary and behind the house a pitiful patch of back garden tangled with weeds when I didn’t attend to it myself, and I couldn’t often be bothered.

Dressed, I headed downstairs to breakfast. Father sat, resplendent in a fraying greatcoat and greying silk shirt. Mother sat beside him, her crushed velvet gown growing shiny at the elbows. They were already eating. I sat down as well and the maid brought me cold toast and eggs, served with some lukewarm tea.

“...what I wouldn’t do with a bit of cards right now, Felicity. I tell you, once we are restored to our former home, I shall never cease playing them.”

Mother sniffed. “And I shall wear five different silks all in one day, all with matching hats, and we shall once again be the very toast of town!”

Typical breakfast talk, as it had been for the three months since we’d moved here. I found myself quite tired of it this morning. “And exactly how do you plan to restore yourselves to society, Mother and Father? Surely no one will have me anymore now that I’m Henry’s leftovers,” I could not conceal my small grin of victory, “and you need extensive wealth or breeding to even be  _ considered. _ ”

Father cleared his throat. “Of course Felicity, I would buy you as many silks as you wish.”

Mother smiled at him. “And I shall never again complain when I see you seated at cards, Aloysious, dear.”

Ah, yes. This was another new feature that came with our new home. A precious few of our previous belongings, supplemented by second hand castoffs of other impoverished nobility. Carpets worn to the threads. No social calls for this house. 

And not a word to me. Not since Father had received Henry’s formal letter and sworn me off as useless had either of them spoken a word to me.

“...but of course, the trick is to only gamble with what you have in front of you…”

I scoffed, pushing my cold breakfast away from me.  _ Eat something, you look hungry.  _ “Goodbye then, Mother; Father.”

I collected my coat and departed. 

_ “‘To my dear friend Aloysius Mallory, I pray you are well. I also ask after the health of your wife and of course, your son, Philip. I find it difficult to write this letter to you, but find that I must.’ Whatever is Henry talking about in this letter, Philip? ...Ahem, ‘ I regret to inform you that…’ What the devil?!” _

As I walked along the river towards the garment district I contemplated the last time Father spoke to me. 

_ “This useless son of ours… Henry Shawdun has officially broken off the engagement! It says here that he has fallen in love with another! WHAT DID YOU DO, PHILIP?!” _

Our new accommodations meant that I lived closer to Margaret and Billy than I had previously. No more than a fifteen minute’s walk.

_ “Speak, you useless boy! Our future was secured! We were the most envied family in the city to have gotten Shawdun! What have you done?!” _

Soon enough, I arrived at _ Mrs. Blethely’s Fine Gowns and Costumery.  _ A felt a small smile ghost over my face as I spoke aloud the words that I had said to Father then, the words I had sworn  _ not _ to say, but hadn’t been able to hold back in the heat of the moment. All my resentment, all my hope that maybe they cared for me a little, the illusion vanished as I said those five words and erased myself from my parent’s purview forever. 

“I found him another suitor.”

“So you did.” I startled and looked up at Mrs. Blethely’s age-worn face. Her mouth had permanent frown lines around it, making her a truly foreboding looking woman, but I knew that behind all the salt and pickles was a… well, a truly foreboding woman who smiled at you but only when you earned it. Our first impression had been quite shabby, with neither of us getting a terribly good impression of the other. Now, she regarded me evenly, but her eyes smiled just the tiniest bit. “Come in quickly, young man; you are late and Billy is all a-wonders at his shiny new Uncle Oliver and gasping to talk about it with someone who knows the man.”

_ So Henry had introduced them at last. _

I hesitated on the step, then entered. 

No sooner was I in the back room then young Billy flew into my arms. “Uncle Philip, Uncle Philip!” He spoke loudly though he was mere inches from my face. “We met a new man last night! And he’s so nice, and so very smart and he knows all about plants and he knows you!” I carried him to Margaret’s quarters as he carried on. “And Henry said he’s going to marry him, but I told him no! He can’t, because Mr. Lord Philip is marrying him, and then Mama shushed me, so I’m still so confused, are you marrying Uncle Henry?” his big blue eyes, perfect copies of his Uncle Henry, stared into mine, filled with joy, curiosity and confusion.

I cleared my throat. “I… ah, no, Billy. We were going to but then… er.” How to explain to a five year old?

“They decided that they prefer to be just friends, Billy. And your Uncle Henry and Uncle Oliver get along so well and they want to get married, so now they’re going to get married instead.” Margaret came down the spiral staircase and interrupted my bumbling. She was Henry’s older sister, and even more years my senior. She had all but raised Henry while his own parents neglected him, and took a similar approach to me, though God knew I was fully grown and had done little to deserve her kindness. Now she swooped young Billy out of my arms, depositing the lad on the floor where he continued to vibrate with unasked questions. “Apologies, Philip, I should have explained it to him properly last night, but I got distracted…” She gestured around her workshop where half-completed dresses spilled over the surfaces, sprinkled liberally with thread spools and spare buttons. 

“No worries.” I gave her a tired smile. “Surely you have more important things to do than discuss three-month old news.” I gestured around the shop, which bustled with new orders. “The Harvest Ball keeping you and Blethely on your feet, I see.”

She smiled, hands on her hips as she observed her domain. “My kingdom for an assistant.”

I chuckled. “Well, there’s always me, useless though I am!”

She grinned at that. “I’ll bear it in mind, Philip--you never know when I might need a spare dress form.” She winked and sat down to work.

“Wait, but--Uncle Philip?” I turned back to Billy who looked up at me. “Does that mean that you won’t be my Uncle Philip anymore?” His large blue eyes began to fill with tears. “Does that mean that--that you won’t visit anymore??”

Ah yes, I reminded myself. The title. “I… I don’t know, Billy.” I turned helplessly back to Margaret who looked up from her sewing. “I--I don’t want to overstep, Margaret. I would happily visit as a friend, but “Uncle” belongs to Oliver now, and I don’t know if it would be proper…”

She smiled and gestured to Billy, who scampered to her side for a hug. “It’ll all be okay, Billy. Philip will continue to come visit you all the time just like before.” She put a finger under his chin and lifted it so Billy was looking into her eyes. “He still loves you, no matter what. Family comes in all shapes and sizes, even if we aren’t married to someone. Would you like to keep calling him your Uncle Philip?”

Billy nodded, chin wobbling.

Margaret glanced at me, and I nodded my ascent. If Henry wanted to say no to this child, that was very much his problem. I was not that strong. 

Margaret smiled and turned back to Billy. “Then he is still your Uncle Philip.”

“Really?” Billy turned to me, all dusty cheeks and frayed cuffs and hopeful face and my heart caved in. 

“Of course, Billy. I’ll be your Uncle Philip for as long as you would like me to be.” And God spare my heart when he eventually grew tired of me and realized I didn’t belong. When they both did.

Billy smiled and the sun came out. “Okay.” He wiped his eyes and nose on his shirtsleeves, before Margaret clicked her tongue and handed him a scrap of cloth from the table. “I’m… I’m really happy you aren’t leaving us, Uncle Philip. I like Uncle Oliver a lot, but…”

“We don’t compare people, Billy, it’s rude.” Margaret chided, eyes back to her sewing. “Now, wash up before Uncle Oliver and Uncle Henry arrive for lunch.” 

I startled. “Ahh… that would be my cue to leave, I suppose.”

“You don’t have to.”

I rose and straightened my coat. “No, no, I think it would be best. Allow Oliver and Billy time to bond,” Billy would soon become Oliver’s adopted son, allowing Billy to secure a title and a future outside of Mrs. Blethely’s workroom, and it would hardly do for an irrelevant interloper to get in the way of that. “I will be back to visit, though, rest assured.” I shook Margaret’s hand, and gave Billy a quick hug before hastening to the door.

“Philip.”

I turned back. Margaret had risen and followed me to the door, a soft scarf in her hand and a kind smile on her face. “As you will not be marrying Henry I know we will not become brother and sister, but I should like to think that we could still be friends.” I felt a lump in my throat thicken as she quoted my own words back to me. 

I looked down at my feet and swallowed. Abandoned at home I might be, and I would no doubt have to get used to a life without them soon enough, but I would bask in the glow of her and Billy’s friendship for as long as they could want me. “I… thank you, Margaret. Yes, I would be honored.”

“Then I will see you on Thursday morning at ten sharp for breakfast with Billy, myself and Mrs. Blethely. Now here’s a little something I made with scraps from Lady Aramintha Vogun’s Harvest Ball gown. It’ll keep you warm as the chill sets in.” With a warm smile, she pressed the scarf into my hands and then ushered me to the door.

As I hastened outside into the early autumn breeze, I felt eyes on me. I looked up and caught the stare of a man I had never met before. He regarded me intensely from across the street, not saying a word, hat pulled low and coat collar turned up. Coincidence it could be, but I didn’t like the feeling I got from him. Straightening my shoulders, I turned away from him and hurried down the street, praying he would not follow. When I chanced a glance over my shoulder a few blocks away, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT BEGINS!! I have a roadmap for the entire rest of the story and I'm so excited to bring yo all along for the ride!! I've joined these two stories together so that this one is easy to find. Here goes nothing!


	2. The Harvest Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have the Mallory's scored an invite the Harvest Ball, or are they doomed to stand at the sidelines, hissing at former acquaintances?

“Philip!”

I jumped in my seat. Almost four months of being a ghost in my own home and suddenly my mother was calling for me. My heart rose in my chest, only to fall with a thud. If she was calling for me, it could not be for anything good.

“Philip, come down at once, we have excellent news!”

I swallowed and straightened my shirt--an old one, frayed on the collar and cuffs. Closing my eyes, I sent up a quick prayer before I started for the stairs and the  _ receiving room. _

Mother and Father both stood there, matching smiles on their faces.

“Philip, my darling! I have excellent news!” Mother stepped forward to greet me, while Father watched from his spot perched in his chair. “Oh, but look at what you’re wearing right now, you must change, this would never do!” She began to fuss at my collar and cuffs and I stood there and let her. She was speaking with me.

“What’s the news, Mother?

“Of the best kind, Philip dearest! We have been invited to the Harvest Ball! Can you imagine?” She stopped fussing and patted my cheek. “It seems we are not friendless after all! Oh, but I cannot  _ wait _ !” She turned to Father. “We must have new clothes made, for all three of us, I insist--”

“Of course!” Father interrupted, “I would never hear of us arriving at the Harvest Ball in anything less than the best!”

“But, the funds…” I stammered.

Father held up a hand. “Don’t worry about that for a moment, Philip. How very uncouth to worry about something as trifling as funds at a moment like this!” He chuckled heartily, and I did not argue with him. He was speaking with me. 

Mother went off in a flurry of excitement, planning every detail from our carriage to our suits, to a reminder to Father that he must  _ not _ get pulled to the cards table no matter what, and he promised, so he simply must not do so, isn’t that right, Philip dearest?

To think, all it took to no longer be a ghost in my own house was a charitable invite from some well-meaning former acquaintance of my parents. Had I known, I would have orchestrated one months ago.

***

We arrived at the Harvest Ball in a beautiful black carriage, decorated in dark red painted wreaths, just like Mother imagined. I was dressed in a wine red coat, and trousers over snowy white hose, with leather heeled shoes and a matching red top hat. Mother wore a dramatic creation that resembled the flouncy ensembles I had seen in Margaret’s workroom in fiery shades of autumnal glory. Father wore a more sedate deep brown suit, and with Mother on his arm, they looked very much like a rare bird had landed on a very plain tree.

The Harvest Ball was a study in splendor as it was every year. Every wall and window was festooned with autumn colors, and tables groaned under the weight of rare delicacies. Truly, it was one of the few events that could rival the Shawdun’s Spring Fete in terms of luxury and cost. I sighed as I entered the room. There was something magical about being surrounded by so much opulence; it made one straighten their back and walk smarter. As I looked around, I couldn’t help but wonder what Billy would think of it all. Soon enough, he would himself be invited to such fetes as these, and the splendor would no doubt overwhelm him. I chuckled as I imagined it; his eyes round like saucers and he would spin in circles trying to take everything in.

“Pleasure to see you, Philip! It’s been too long!”

I startled and turned at Oliver’s voice. He was dressed well, his clothes a better cut and fabric than mine, but styled simply. The forest green theme of his ensemble brought out the green in his eyes. “Good to see you too, Oliver!”

He bowed shortly, his smile as kindly and warm as I remembered. “What has you laughing with such abandon?”

“Oh! Ah, nothing much, no matter, just a passing thought.” Truly, it was good to see Oliver, but I wanted to leave before--

“Philip Mallory, what a pleasant surprise.”

There was no helping my full-body reaction to hearing his voice again. Deep, even, calm… kind. Kind like Oliver’s. Truly they were such a well matched pair. I turned to greet my former fiance Henry Shawdun.

In all the time we had spent apart, I had forgotten how stunning he was. He wore a dark red suit, like mine, but like Oliver’s it was a far better cut and fabric than my own. The suit's shape molded to the set of his broad shoulders and chest and his ivory hose hugged his strong legs. He wore a new pair of black Hessians, and his hat was a matching wine red, with a green band to match Oliver’s ensemble. And his eyes...

“Henry Shawdun,” my voice was even but for the cracking in “Henry” and “Shawdun.”  _ Very well done, excellent composure, Philip.  _ “The pleasure is mine.” I gave him a short bow, eyes focusing on his straight nose as I rose again.

“It’s good to see you again, Philip. I hope you are well?”

I had been avoiding him ever since we broke off our engagement. He would never seek me out, not when I was the one desiring we part ways, and I hadn’t known how to bridge the distance afterward. Every thought of us interacting when we had so much history… I did not know how to face him. My family’s demotion in society had only aided in my avoidance of him, as we no longer ran in the same circles, save for Margaret, but I made sure to never be at Margaret’s when he was expected to be there. 

“Excellently well, Henry, thank you.”

Henry hastened to Oliver’s side, handing him a glass of wine to match his own. “Sorry I don’t have a glass for you, Philip, I didn’t realize that you were--ah, but please take mine.”

“No, no, please don’t trouble yourself!” This was no longer my place. “I don’t think I’ll be drinking tonight… Er, upset stomach, you see.”

Both Henry and Oliver looked at me with concern. “I’m so sorry to hear--” Henry started.

“I have just the thing for that back at home!” Oliver interrupted, smacking himself in the forehead. “I  _ knew  _ I should have brought it!”

_ Oh, good God! _ “No, no, it’s all well and good! I...I seem to be feeling much better all of a sudden!” I patted my stomach vehemently for good measure. “Ah, yes, the pain is going away!”

“I pray you have a full recovery.” That from Henry. My eyes were pulled to his steady blue gaze. His eyes were creased at the edges and I read a familiar amusement. Engaged or not, he could still read me far too well.

I felt my face flush red. “Anyway, I’d best be going to… er, find my parents. They must be wondering at my absence.”

“Of course.” Oliver nodded. “Next ball, rest assured I will carry my remedies on me, blast this suit with no pockets! I’m sure Edmond--” He cut himself off suddenly, and tugged at Henry’s arm, eyes darting around. “But enough about that. I see my father straight ahead. Come, Henry…”

Henry obliged, pausing only long enough to press his wineglass into my hand with a smile before following Oliver away.

I watched them go. Truly, they were a beautiful couple together and I wished them every…

I sighed.

“Philip!” I startled as Mother called for me. She was hastening toward me, Father in tow. “Come with me at once!”

What could they possibly want from me now that they were clasped firmly in the luxurious bosom of the Harvest Ball? 

Perhaps Mother wanted to dance with me? She had not since I was a child, but perhaps the joy of the evening...?

I grinned and followed her across the room. We weaved through well-dressed people and past the dance floor, to a corner of the room where an older couple stood waiting. They were dressed very well, perhaps not as well as Henry and Oliver, but far finer than us. Mother jerked me to a stop in front of them and curtsied. Father’s strong hand on my shoulder urged me to bow deeply.

“Philip, this is Jacob and Harriet Farthingham.”

I bowed again slightly to Mrs. Farthingham and held out a hand to the man. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Farthingham.”

“The pleasure is mine.” He returned evenly.

“The Farthinghams are the reason we are here, you see.” Mother babbled on, excitedly. “They’ve been out of town for so long and of course were very happy to see us when they returned. We are their guests tonight. They were anxious to meet you so we could complete this business already!” She tutted good naturedly, as if we were all in on an excellent joke.

Business…? 

Mrs. Farthingham smiled tightly. “Indeed. How fortunate to come to an agreement on so fine an event as the Harvest Ball.”

“But of course, we must wait on one more…” Mr. Farthingham cut himself off as his eyes fastened on someone standing behind me. 

I turned and observed a man, perhaps five years older than me, with a wine glass in hand. He detached himself from the dance floor and made his way over to us, eyes locked on me. 

He was taller than me by an inch or two, and with the ease of man unthreatened by those around him. He was handsome, with thin features and dark-brown eyes that pinned you to where you stood. 

I stared back with a sinking feeling in my gut. 

He stopped right before me and barely bowed his head. “Philip Mallory, yes?” He spoke my name in a lazy drawl. He looked over my head to his parents and nodded.

“Very well, then.” Mr. Farthingham reached for Father’s hand and shook it. “The details, as we discussed, Sir Mallory.”

“Aloysious, please.” Father turned to me. “Philip, meet your fiance, John Farthingham.”

No.

My parents and the Farthinghams kept speaking, but their voices echoed around me like stones being thrown against my tomb.

I felt a hand grasp my shoulder and turned to John Farthingham. His grip tightened firmly and he spoke right in my ear. “You should smile, Philip. After all, your future has just been redeemed from the flames of hell. And God knows it was perilously close.” 

I shook my head, dizzily. Mother was beaming at me, gesticulating excitedly about something. Someone else approached our small gathering and our parents turned to them. Wind rushed in my ears as voices raised around me in congratulations.

No. 

But it was.

I was such a fool. I should have known the moment Mother had opened her mouth and spoken to me, called my “dear” that this is what they had in mind. Should have confirmed it as soon as Father so much as acknowledged my presence.

I forced myself to focus again as Father and Mother gestured to the people around us, who were drawn to the hubbub and offered their congratulations. Father nodded, as though it were obvious they would land a match with another rich family, while Mother linked her arm with a stoic Mrs. Farthingham. John stood at my side, accepting congratulations, shaking hands. 

“Mr. Shawdun.”

I startled. Surely it had to be Henry’s father and he and Oliver remained on the other side of the room with Oliver’s parents. I trained my eyes to the ground.

“I believe congratulations are in order for our dear son!” Mother’s voice was ice. 

Before me stepped two sets of feet. Oliver’s heeled shoes. Henry’s black Hessians. I kept my eyes faithfully trained to the ground.

“Our dear son is to marry the illustrious John Farthingham, of Farthingham Enterprises,” Mother continued, her tone the most condescending of high nobility. “We of course would only want to marry him to someone who is worthy of him… Not desperate social climbers.” She tittered behind her hand. “I’m sure you understand. Philip is of course very pleased.” 

“Congratulations!” Oliver declared, blissfully unaware. “Philip, my friend, I wish you every happiness!”

I nodded at the ground. 

“Philip.” Henry’s tone was unreadable. I refused to look at him. “Philip.” 

His hand reached out to shake. What must he think? I looked up.

His eyes held a thousand questions. I could bear that, but I also saw… He pitied me.

“Congratulations, Philip.” His eyes held mine, searching. “I wish you every happiness.”

I did not want his pity. I didn’t want him standing there, his every prayer answered while I stood trapped once again. I couldn’t bear it.

“I…” My voice cracked. My throat was thick, I could not find the words. I could not speak or my eyes would flow over and he would see. I would die of the shame. I could only nod, mutely, shoving the wine glass back into his hand and reaching numbly to shake Oliver’s. Henry’s eyes narrowed before he looked away, and I thanked God for it as my view blurred and turned to Mother and Father.

“I… I need the necessary.” I blurted. “Be right back…”

I stumbled from the room, chest heaving as I reached the door and all but fell down the stairs, away from the ball, the people… my new fiance.

I had barely made it to the carriage before I gasped, loud and undignified. I could not cry, could barely breathe, my back hurting, my shoulders shaking, my body unable to do anything but curl up in the seat and clench with misery. 

“Sir?” Through the fog, I heard the driver call to me, concerned. It must have been the fourth or fifth time he had called out. 

I cleared my throat. “We should leave.”

“I’m to wait for Sir and Madam Mallory, Sir.”

I couldn’t do this. “Yes. Yes, of course.” My lips were parched. “I think I’ll take a brisk walk, clear my head some.” I climbed out of the carriage again, aching.

“As you wish, sir.” 

I turned tail and ran.

I ran away from the carriage, the hall, my parents, my certain future. I ran from the place where impoverished nobility sold their children away and down into town. In a blur I passed houses, coffee shops and street sweepers. My shoes and hose splashed through the mud, my hat lost somewhere when it had fallen and I hadn’t stopped to retrieve it. As I dashed through a park, I could feel whispers following me, tongues wagging in curiosity. At the moment I did not care. I only had to get away from them--my parents, their greed, society itself; I could not bear to be among it a moment longer.

I ran until I had no more breath, until my feet collapsed under me and I fell to my knees on a dirty road in a dark, crowded alley. No sooner had I collapsed then my stomach rebelled and I threw up, bent over, heaving violently until my stomach was empty. 

A hand reached out and began to stroke my back softly. I whipped around to see who it was.

I looked up into the kind, worn eyes of Philip Chilton.

“There, now, lad. Get it all out.”

Of course it wasn’t Henry. He was back at the ball, laughing at the results of all my schemes and hopes, congratulating himself on dodging the poor match that I would have made. 

I held up a hand. “Thank you, I’m okay.” My voice didn’t sound like my own.

Philip smiled at me, crouching down to my level, hand still reassuringly clasping my shoulder. “There now, lad, you are a generous sort, sure enough, but a terrible liar.” He reached a hand under my chin and raised my face so I was looking into his eyes. They crinkled in concern. “You look like your own heart cracked in two.”

I stared at him, at his kind eyes, his papery skin, the careworn wrinkles.

I shook my head. “I have to be okay. It’s all my fault.” My breath came in gasps. “I should’ve known, should’ve thought ahead, done something to prevent this. No use crying about this.”

Phillip cupped my face gently between two veined hands. “Then why are you crying, lad?”

I felt it then. Tears poured down my face, unbidden. I tried to turn away, but there was no helping it. Phillip gently pulled me forward until my face was tucked into his worn out coat. The same one I had given him so many months ago. “Go on, lad. A good cry will sort you right out.”

My soul needed no extra urging. I cried like a child, sobbing without shame into Philip’s poor coat. His old hands stroked my back kindly, and he murmured quiet words that I couldn't make out. Words of care. He held me the way I imagined Margaret held young Billy when he became too overwhelmed by the ugliness of the world. A stranger who I had only met twice supported me with more care than my own mother and father ever had, and it made me cry more. For my anguish and frustration that their rank and rearing had turned them into the people they were, for everything they were doing to me, and at the anger I felt at myself that a tiny piece of me still inexplicably wanted to please them and make them happy. I cried for the feeling of being trapped that dogged me at every shadow, for my future chasing the tails of a rich man who I did not want to see again, and definitely didn’t want to marry. I cried for who I could have been had I been born utterly average, a free man marrying someone he could truly love. 

I cried until I could barely draw breath, could barely keep my eyes open. I was exhausted, body and soul. 

“There now, lad. Very well done.” Phillip whispered. I continued to lean against him, desperate for support. I was a dry shell that the nearest wind would blow away into nothing. “It gets harder as you get older to cry, but looks like you still got a bit of the lad in you yet.” He chuckled slightly, still rubbing my back. “Now let’s get you home, eh?”

“No.” I whispered. 

“Now what was that, lad? No? But I’m sure you mum and da are frightful worried about you.”

I huffed out a sour sound at that. “I can’t go home.” My eyes were closing of their own accord.

From above my head I heard Philip sigh. “Up you get, now, lad.”

“No… I won’t go home,” I mumbled.

“None of that now… You can’t sleep unprotected in the middle of the road, so you’ll come with me. We’ll get you home in the morning before your parents set the coppers on my tail.”

I sighed, rising with his help. Slowly, I lumbered after him, my surroundings a blur. The last thing I remembered was stumbling through a worn old house, up a flight of uneven, creaking stairs and dropping onto a splintery floor that smelled of age and hay. Philip said something to me, but I couldn’t make it out. I fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried while writing this. My poor baby. Every time he gets ahead, he gets knocked back again. Thank God for Philip Chilton.


	3. John Farthingham

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip gets a chance to spend time alone with his new fiance.

I lay still in a soft, deep feather bed, wrapped warmly in a soft blanket. I felt peaceful, a deep-seated content the likes of which I had not felt ever since I could remember. I was so warm, my eyelids so heavy, I could only lay there, leaning back against the hot blanket that pushed against my back. But the blanket… It moved against me, breathing. Someone sleeping soundly, their breaths familiar, but my mind was washed in tranquility and too languid to place them. I tried to look back, but a bright light blocked my view of the person behind me and I should have been afraid, truly I should have, but I knew to the very core of my soul that this person would not hurt me. And so I did not look further, only pushed back against that warm weight, sighing contentedly as the heavy arm clasped around my middle tightened and a warm sigh brushed my ear--

“Lord Philip.”

I snapped awake. My back ached. Philip Chilton was shaking my shoulder gently. Early morning sun shone through the dust motes, illuminating the tiny attic and scuffed wooden floor I had spent the night on.

“Best get you home, lad, before I’m thrown in the clink for making off with a nob in the middle of the night.”

I sighed. Everything ached. Sighing, I stood, joints popping as I brushed the dust from my clothes. 

“There you are, lad. A strong one.” Philip reached out a hand and pulled a stray bit of straw off my brow. “A strong man with a strong heart.”

I felt my eyes wet at his words, and I turned away to look out the window. I wouldn’t cry anymore. Crying was for the helpless. I was Philip Mallory, son of an earl, and I didn’t need to trifle with such things.

I turned back to Philip. “I believe it’s time I headed home, Mr. Chilton, before I bring you any trouble.”

Philip smiled. “Ay, lad, I believe it is.” He followed me out. Together we made our way down the creaking stairs into a main room. A woman surrounded by small bedraggled children ogled me as I appeared. She was standing over a large wooden wash tub filled with garments and steaming water. A washerwoman then. The children were all dressed for the task ahead and in various states of soaked and dryness. She seemed to gather herself as she became aware that I was regarding them all, straightening her back and clearing her throat. 

“Breakfast for you and the… er, gentleman, Papa?”

_ Papa?  _ I startled.  _ Philip has a family? _

Philip waved his hand. “I’m afraid our guest is in a hurry, Mary, no need. I’ll take him to the nearest street with taxis, then get to work.”

She nodded, hairs sliding out of the threadbare kerchief tied round her head. “I’ll see you at supper, then.”

Her children regarded me the same way patrons of the royal zoo regard a particularly rare animal. They were thin, and their clothes were ragged but clean. Clearly care ran in the family. But if this woman’s father was living with them, where was her husband?

“Grandpa, who’s the fancy nob?”

Mary shushed the boy who had spoken up, glancing at me nervously. I smiled and approached the child, kneeling so I was closer to his height, and held out a hand.

“I am Lord Philip Mallory, at your service, good sir. Might I have the pleasure of your name?”

His eyes grew wide as saucers, and he tentatively reached out his own hand to shake, fingers pruny from the tub. “J-James Hawthorn, if it pleases you, sir.”

I shook his small hand heartilly. “It pleases me immensely, James Hawthorn.” I looked round the room. “Might I have the pleasure of meeting you all? With your permission, of course.” I looked up at Mary quickly for permission. This was her household after all, and I the suspicious intruder. She nodded, and though her face hadn’t warmed much, her eyes no longer held fear.

“I’m Eliza!” A young girl ran forward, hand outstretched. “And you are the most handsome man I have ever met!”

I laughed, shaking her hand in return. “You will meet far more handsome men soon enough, no doubt. But you are one of the most beautiful young ladies I have had the pleasure to meet, Eliza.”

After that, the other six children came forward to introduce themselves. After James and Eliza were Jacob, David, and twin girls, Iola and Olivia. The final two children introduced themselves as Nancy and Simon Wainwright, originally neighbors but now members of the family.

“Their poor parents were taken in the same sickness that took my William,” explained Mary. 

They clearly lived on crumbs. Philip begged on the streets to keep a roof over their heads while Mary and her children took in laundry. And yet, they hadn’t hesitated to take in those less fortunate. Nancy and Simon were as shabby as the rest of the children, but they also looked just as loved and cared for. 

I turned to Philip. “You have the most beautiful family, Mr. Chilton.”

He beamed at me. “Yessir I do that.”

I turned back to Mary. “I wish I could stay longer and meet you all properly, but I really should go and attend my responsibilities.” I reached into my coat and pressed a coin into her palm. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

She looked down at the coin, eyes wide. “I can’t take all this just for giving you a spot of floor!”

I smiled, hands clasped firmly behind my back. “Truly, Mrs. Hawthorn, yesterday was an especially trying day, and I do not know what I would have done had your father not found me. If anything I owe you more than just a coin.” I pulled a calling card from my coat and handed it to her. “If you ever find yourself in need of a friend, I trust you will call on me, and I will help if I can.”

She nodded silently at me and turned to start breakfast as Philip escorted me out the door. 

“That was right kind of ya, Lord Philip.”

“Please, just Philip.” I stopped and turned to him. “I meant every word I said in there. I have never felt more alone than I did last evening. I won’t forget your kindness, Philip Chilton.”

He regarded me silently for a moment before placing a hand on my shoulder. “You are a blessing, Philip Mallory. Don’t let no stuffed shirt, noble fool make you forget that.” He turned away and continued down the road. My old coat flapped around his thin frame, and I knew that with winter coming it would hardly be adequate for long. If only there was a way to get him off the streets that did not hurt his dignity. “Now let’s get you to the nearest big road so you can catch a carriage.”

He led me all the way there, and gave me one last kind smile and pat on the back before vanishing into the crowds. I waited until he was out of sight before turning and walking home, grinning. I couldn’t hail a carriage as I had given my last coin to Mary, but it was no trouble. I could walk.

***

My parents were initially furious with me for having left the ball when I had, and then concerned when I begged illness.

“Oh no, that cannot be!” Mother fretted. “John's mother and I scheduled the two of you for tea today in two hours. You simply cannot leave John waiting! Wouldn’t want him to lose interest in you, not like…” She trailed off, eyes scanning all over me, searching for signs of health.

Father was watching me, eyes narrowed. I had escaped the weight of further disappointing them by a hair.

I cleared my throat. “No, no, I think I should be alright, actually.”

Mother’s face brightened immediately. “Excellent! Now upstairs with you, you have a new butler--we all do, a gift from the Farthinghams. He will help you dress.”

The time passed quickly and I soon found myself in a fine carriage, dressed almost as opulently as I had been the previous night, though in blue. The color reminded me of Henry’s eyes. John Farthingham met me at the carriage door, and handed me out. He was dressed finely as well and carried a walking stick that he clacked into the sidewalk with every step.

We were in a fine spot in town, a popular meeting place filled with tea and coffee shops where the finest couples went to drink and gossip when they were courting. 

“Mallory.” John offered his arm to me, and I took it automatically so he could lead me to Madame Pouffant’s Fine Tea & Coffee.

We were seated at a table closer to the back, away from the larger hubbub at the center of the room. John sat himself down and I sat as well. He rapped his walking stick against the table and a server hastened over.

“Finally.” John sneered. “I’ll have a darjeeling, and  _ my fiance _ will have a…” He left it dangling and looked at me.

I cleared my throat and looked at the server apologetically. “Ah, an orange peel tea for me, please.”

“Fruit tea?” John laughed. “This isn’t the colonies!” He turned back to the server. “He’ll have a darjeeling as well. And cucumber sandwiches.” He rapped his walking stick in the direction of the server who scurried away with our order. I turned to him, annoyed, but before I could speak, he continued. “It’s those unrefined tastes that made Shawdun lose interest in you.”

I felt my own eyes widen.

“Of course, it could also be because you're rail thin. All angles you are. I’ll have to fatten you up before you stab me in bed with an elbow.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“I beg your pardon?” I managed.

I wanted to say more, but at that instant the server returned with our tea and a tray of small sandwiches. She organized it on our table, John leering at her suggestively while she worked, and hastened away.

I grabbed my own cup and took a fortifying sip. It was an excellent cup of tea, to be sure, but lacked the comfort that fragrant orange peel tea could provide.

“Tell me, did you give Shawdun a taste before the wedding and he realized you were no good for pleasuring him? Is that why he moved on to Metley?” John laughed loudly. “No doubt he’s a virgin--just look at him--but at least he’s got a better title. And he’s probably quite the coquette after a few glasses of wine.” 

I clenched my teeth. “Don’t speak about Oliver that way.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Not denying it, then? So you  _ did _ give Shawdun a taste. Wait until my friends hear about this!” He guffawed.

I rose from my seat. “How dare you--!”

His face darkened. “Now, now, best sit down, Philip. Wouldn't want your parents to think you’re messing up your second engagement so quickly. Skinny, ugly, big-mouthed thing like you, it’s no wonder the other rich men in the city won’t have you. You’re lucky your parents found our family.” He took a bite out of a soft cucumber sandwich and I could only watch him, flabbergasted.

“Of course I’m happy enough to have you, even if ol’ Shawdun’s already had a taste.” John spoke through a full mouth, flecks of cucumber landing near my teacup. “‘Title like yours isn’t handed to a worthy man of means like me every day, and I’m sure I’ll find my uses for you.” He put the sandwich down and wiped at his mouth with a napkin before taking a sip of tea. I sat across from him, too overcome with anger to form a sentence. “I think you would fit nicely around my--” He stopped, eyes going wide with shock as tea dripped down his hair and face into his crisp white collar. I returned my teacup to its saucer and watched in satisfaction as his shirt turned an ugly brown.

“ _ How dare you?!” _ He hissed, standing.

I paused, pretending to think. “Hmm, you’re right… It’s not quite enough.” Without a second thought I picked up his own teacup and threw it in his face as well. His eyes glowed with fury as I grinned at him. Suddenly he reached out swiftly, grabbing me by my collar and pulling me forward over the table so we were eye to eye. I gasped in pain as my hips came painfully into contact with the table’s edge.

“You forget who you are playing with, you little fool.” He spat. “You might be Sir Philip Mallory, but I am the sole heir of the entire Farthingham fortune. One day soon you will beg me for forgiveness for this.” 

“Continue dreaming,” I challenged him. I tugged to free myself, but his grip was strong. “I will sooner die than beg you for  _ anything _ .”

He threw me away from him and I stumbled backward into a wall, hitting my head. “You’ll regret this!” He promised, picking up his hat and stick and leaving.

I could only smile blearily at the now empty table and mess of our tea. Mother and Father did not realize he was a brute. Surely once they found out, peace would be restored.

***

I did not have a chance to speak my piece. “How could you humiliate us like that?!” Mother shrieked at me, waving the Fartihngham’s furious letter. I could only assume it had arrived at my house not ten minutes before I had, going by the freshness of her anger. “After everything we did for you, securing your future! And trust you me, it was  _ not  _ easy! Very few men would even consider propositioning the Shawdun’s leftovers. Oh, the apologizing I will have to do to Mrs. Farthingham!”

“Mother, you misunderstand. John Farthingham is a brute! if you heard the things he said to me--!”

“I’m sure he didn’t say anything you didn’t deserve, with your willful ways.” Mother sniffed, dismissing me. “You must learn to be more polite, more genteel. No more saying whatever it is that comes to your vapid mind whenever you wish! No more willful attempts to make John Farthingham lose interest in you like you did with Shawdun. Your behavior brings shame upon us all!”

Father watched on as she berated me before interjecting, “The Farthingham’s want an honest marriage with an excellent noble family like our own; no scandals, and certainly no misbehavior from you. A marriage with John Farthingham is more than you could possibly hope for now that you’ve mucked it up with Shawdun.” He scoffed. “You childish machinations almost brought about our ruin! You will not be too proud to accept the charitable hand we and John Farthingham have extended you, you ungrateful boy!”

“You will work to be polite!” Mother commanded. “You will be charming. When John says something, you will agree with him  _ always _ . If he makes a joke, you will laugh. His happiness is now your chief concern, and if you must kiss him on the hour every hour to keep him happy, that is what you will do.”

I’d had quite enough.

“And if he asks me to kiss him somewhere that isn’t his face or hand, am I to oblige that as well?” Mother gasped, scandalized. “What about his  _ kindly _ parents?! Am I to whore myself out to the all Farthingham’s on behalf of your fortunes?”

I felt the slap on my face before I realized what had happened. I turned in shock, but already Father was reapplying his glove to the hand that had struck me. “You will not speak that way in your Mother’s presence, Philip. And you will listen to her implicitly in this manner.” He turned sharply to Mother who nodded. “Now, your mother has graciously set up a number of invites for you and John to attend together so you can know each other better before you're married. You will attend them all, dressed fashionably! And you will be attentiveness itself to John, am I clear?” Father stared me down, eyes narrowed. “We will not give him time to lose interest in you--the wedding is in a month.”

_ A month. _ My eyes still watered from Father’s slap and now the tears fell over, unchecked. “I hate you.” I whispered.

“Oh that’s quite enough of that, Philip.” Father took Mother’s arm, and pulled her from the room, dismissing me. “You will have suppertime to think about your behavior and how you can change it to make yourself more appealing to your fiance.” He gestured to a new butler who appeared at my elbow. “Philip isn’t hungry tonight. He will spend his evening in thought and penance. You may escort him to his room.” 

They did not believe me. I flopped down on the bed and buried my face in the pillows. My parents had not interviewed John before agreeing to this match--or perhaps John had treated them with far more civility than he had treated myself. 

I scoffed, yanking my body into a sitting position as a true realization occurred to me. Even if John had told my parents in insipid detail how he planned to take me on our wedding night they would still have agreed to the marriage. I swallowed around a lump in my throat as I acknowledged the truth of my situation to myself: My parents did not care for me anymore as anything except a way to restore their own fortunes and good standing in society. 

I heard the doorbell ring and a sudden flurry of activity near the door. I heard Mother fluttering about downstairs and the sounds of surprise and delight. Clearly the Farthinghams had returned and my parents were once again working their way into their good favors. 

I sighed, resigning myself to a night spent alone. It would be peaceful at the very least.

“Sir,” A knock sounded at my door. “Someone has requested to see you.”

I would not go downstairs. I could not face the Farthinghams and their smug faces and their horrible son. Tomorrow perhaps, I could dredge up enough energy, but not tonight.

“Tell my parents I am unwell.” I snorted as a sudden thought occurred to me and I added, “Tell them I am too deep in penance to receive anyone.”

I heard a matching snort from outside my door. “Penance?” I sat up straighter.  _ What was Sir Edmond Ray doing here? _

“Ah! Come in, Edmond.” I quickly straightened my clothes and rose to open the door, but he beat me to it. Upon entering, he took one look at me and paused.

“Good God, man! I came to wish you congratulations but you look like death warmed over,” he exclaimed in horror, escorting me to sit right back on my bed. He then pulled up a chair and sat himself in front of me.

I sniffed, and looked at my hands, flopped uselessly in my lap as I gathered myself. “How are you, Edmond?”

“A far sight better than you, to be sure.” He sighed. “I take it congratulations aren’t quite the thing you’d like to hear at the moment?”

I scoffed quietly. “No. No, not really.”

He sighed. “It’s a shame really. I don’t know if it’s any good telling you this anymore, but... I’ve started a new business venture--quite exciting, actually, and very likely to turn out well for me and all my investors. I was rather hoping to bring you into this new venture of mine in a secretarial position while you were unattached. I suppose now it’s rather a moot point. Pity, you would have been a good man to work with, Philip.”

I sighed deeply. “Well, no hope of that anymore. I am now engaged to John Farthingham, and he’s a right brute.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Edmond placed a sympathetic hand on my knee. “I’m glad I visited.”

“Me too.” I sniffed, louder than I would have liked. “It’s good to see a friendly face after today.”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit for that, I’m afraid.” Edmond paused. “Henry wanted to know how you fared. He told me you left rather abruptly last night.”

I startled and looked up. “Henry sent you? Why--” I stopped myself.

“Well, I certainly didn’t know enough about your new circumstances to think of it on my own. I missed the Harvest Ball, and only picked up a fraction of the rumors. Henry’s worried, but doesn’t want to impose where you don’t want him.” He chuckled. “And it’s quite unlikely your parents would let him near you, the circumstances being what they are.”

I looked at the window and chuckled without humor. “He must think me so pathetic right now.”

Edmond’s hand on my knee tightened. “When he spoke to me this morning I saw only care, not judgement or pity. Henry rarely bothers with either of those, and certainly not where you’re concerned.” I nodded absently. It was a kind sentiment, but impossible.

“Now,” Edmond clapped his hands. “Tell me all about your  _ delightful _ new young man. And don’t leave out a thing!”

I wanted to tell  _ someone _ who would believe me. But… “You swear you won’t tell Henry a word? I… I wouldn’t want him to be bothered.”

“Well, I wouldn’t volunteer anything per se… But Oliver might ask--he’s worried as well, you know--and I’m not very good at refusing him, and I have no doubt he would hasten to Henry with all of it.” He smiled, and reached into his pocket. “Speaking of the charming marquis, I promised Oliver I would bring you this.” He pulled out a small glass vial filled with dried leaves and deposited it into my hand with a flourish. “Feverfew for your stomach. Oliver insisted.”

A felt a smile pull reluctantly at the corners of my face as I fingered the small vial. I was not entirely alone.

“Now would you like to tell me what an utter bastard John Farthingham is?” Edmond offered again with a smile.

I thought back to some of the things John had said to me and shuddered. “Better not, I think. He was very… bold.” I did not want Edmond’s pity on top of Henry’s. I straightened my shoulders and rose from the bed. “I’m sure all will be well, Edmond, thank you.” I was worthy of their friendship so long as I did not become pitiful in their eyes as well. “I will sort this out, don’t doubt that for a moment.” I said that last part directly to him, summoning as much confidence as I could muster and infusing the words with it. “Tell Henry thank you for his concern, but it isn’t necessary. And tell Oliver thank you for the herbal remedy.”

“What do you plan to do, Philip?” Edmond observed me carefully.

I had no idea. “I have a few ideas, Edmond. You just wait and see.” With that, I escorted Edmond to the door. “I’d best turn in for the night, busy day tomorrow and all that.”

“Of course,” he obliged me, picking up his hat and replacing it on his head. “If your…  _ ideas _ require additional men on deck, don’t hesitate to send me a card.”

He would no doubt bring Oliver and Henry with him. “Thank you, Edmond, but I should be alright.” He walked through the door, when I had a sudden idea, and my hand on his shoulder made him pause. “Edmond?” He turned, brow quizzical. “If you are looking for someone else to take the secretary position, I know of a man. He isn’t particularly well to do, and perhaps a bit older than what you have in mind, but he’s honest, smart, and strong, with a good mind for money and good with people. I can’t recommend him enough.”

His brow quirked. “Who’s this man that could earn such high praise from you?”

I smiled slightly. “We met entirely by accident, but I would call him a… a dear friend.” _If he would allow me the honor._ “His name is Philip Chilton.” I quickly described his appearance and location to Edmond, who nodded.

“Your recommendation is enough for me. I’ll hire him at once. And once your plans are…” He waved his hand vaguely, nodding toward the stairs, “Send me your card. You’re a good man, Philip, sharper than you give yourself credit for. I would be honored to work with you.”

I smiled. In Edmond’s care, the Chilton-Hawthorns would want for nothing this winter. “Thank you. And thank you for visiting. Truly.”

He nodded solemnly. “I’ll be sure to pass on your thanks to Henry--and Oliver as well. As I said before, I’m only the messenger.” With that he turned and I closed my door, returning to my bed. 

No time for penance. I had to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we got to see the full breadth of John Farthingham's stunning personality. Thoughts?


	4. A Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As John continues to amaze with his sparkling personality, Philip wracks his brains to come up with a plan to break this new engagement.
> 
> See End Notes for trigger warnings!

Unfortunately, there was little time to think in the upcoming days. Mother came through on her promise to fill my time with social calls, balls, and galas. When I wasn’t in John’s company, trying desperately to ignore his crude advances and wayward touches, I was standing at a dresser, flinching as pins stabbed me from all sides while I was fitted for my various new ensembles. In all the hubbub of social affairs, I didn’t even have time to visit Margaret or Billy. 

Not a week later we attended the next large event of high society--The Debut Ball where the city’s most eligible prospects who came of age were announced to the populace and started looking for marriage partners.

“Look at them, all huddled up there.” John whispered into my ear. “Remind you of yourself, does it? Up for bid for any man with a wallet wanting a taste?” He laughed, his hand on my back sliding perilously low. I caught it and moved it away.

“Ah ah ah, Philip!” He tutted, wrenching his hand from my grip and returning it to my back. “Remember, you’re mine now; and everyone here knows it.” He squeezed my side and I shuddered. Slowly his hand started stroking my back, sliding lower and lower again.

I felt eyes on me and looked up. Across the room, Henry observed us, concern evident on his face. I would not give him the pleasure of seeing me shaken.

“John, why don’t we get some wine?” I murmured, edging away from his wandering hand. 

He scowled. “Why don’t you stay where I want you to be until I tell you otherwise, pet?”

I couldn’t help the look of revulsion on my face and quickly dropped my head so Henry wouldn’t see it.

“Or better yet, why don’t you go get us both a glass of wine?” He muttered. “Lord knows I need something to help me survive this night without you--” He remembered where we were at the last moment and paused, leering. “Well, time enough for that. Go on.” He pushed me towards the table, and I stumbled, looking up quickly at Henry. But Henry had left his spot, no doubt to find his way back to Oliver or Edmond, or another person of means. 

I swallowed my disappointment and then the anger that quickly followed it. Henry was nothing to me. I didn’t not need his pity, and the less he saw before I secured my freedom again, the better. 

I straightened my suit and went to the wine table with as much dignity as I could muster. What I wouldn't do for a small break. I turned to watch John out of the corner of my eye as one of his friends approached to speak with him. As soon as his attention was directed away from me, I bolted.

My feet carried me to the gardens where couples strolled together arm in arm. I walked past them, working hard at keeping a neutral pace while I scrambled for an abandoned bit of greenery and some peace and quiet. I soon found it near a hedge that rose to just my height, where a small bench was situated under a dim, flickering lamp. A quick glance ensured that there was no one else around save for myself. Sighing, I collapsed on it gratefully, sinking down until my head was almost level with my knees. “Praise God for a moment away,” I gasped in relief.

A bitter chuckle met me from the other side of the hedge. “I only wish you didn’t have to pray for such a thing any longer, Philip.”

One day I would hear that voice speak my name with nary a reaction. “Henry! I…” I jumped from the bench, fumbling to sit straighter and patted my clothes, only to realize that from his side of the hedge he could not see me anyway. I sat back down, sheepishly. “M-Mr. Shawdun, you’re in the gardens?” I tried for a casual tone, but fell well short. 

“I’d rather hoped for some solitude myself.” A sigh from the other side of the hedge. “A former acquaintance of mine is in trouble, and it’s painful to watch and not be able to do anything about it.”

No. _No._ “You--you shouldn’t be here, you were inside talking to all the most well to-do, and… Oliver will be wondering where you are, and other people would wonder--you can’t be here! I mean...” I stammered, trying desperately to collect myself. “You really ought to go inside, Mr. Shawdun, I’m sure you are missed.”

Another bitter chuckle from Henry’s side of the hedge. “Oh, surely not as missed as you are, Lord Mallory.” I winced at my formal title. But I had started it, and I would continue to keep appropriate distance. I would stay in control. Oh, if only I had checked the surroundings more carefully before opening my mouth!

I straightened my posture and sniffed. _When all else fails, deny._ “I… I’m fine, pay no attention to my words, they were spoken carelessly, I… John wanted to catch up with an old business acquaintance and I thought… Well, I heard that these gardens are simply magnificent at this hour, and John isn’t much of a man for plants, not like…” I wasn’t a _man of plants_ either, and the handsome, astute gentlemen on the other side of the hedge knew that very well. “Well, but I thought I would check and see if there’s anything worth noting, and perhaps John and I would walk here together after…” I trailed off, muddled. 

I heard a tired, watery chuckle from Henry’s side of the hedge. “You will hate me for saying this, Lord Mallory, but I’ve missed your panicked babble when you try to lie to me and are utterly unprepared to do so.” 

I bristled. “Are you calling me a liar, Mr. Shawdun?” But of course, I was lying--and poorly at that. “Perhaps you ought to return to the ball, Mr. Shawdun.” I made my voice firm and condescending. “It would hardly do for us to be found like this and generate a scandal. I would hate for Oliver to wonder--”

“Do you need help, Philip?” Henry’s quiet voice broke through my babble.

“Help?!” My voice shook, and I cleared my throat, breathed deeply and tried again. “Help? Not at all, Mr. Shawdun. I... already have a marvelous plan to sort this out, just you wait.”

“What is your plan?” Henry's voice was sharp. 

“What’s it to you?” I had no plan. “Any plan of mine is no business of yours, Mr. Shawdun, and I will thank you to respect that.”

“Philip, you need to be careful!” Henry wasn’t angry, he was… scared. “I went to school with John Farthingham, and he’s a cunning, slimy bastard who does whatever it takes to get what he wants. He’s brutal, just like his father, and they run their businesses the same. Cutthroat, dishonest… I would sooner sell off all our stock to your father to gamble away to nothing than have anything to do with Farthingham Enterprises. I’ve seen the way he treats his lovers; it’s the same as he treats his subordinates. He stamps them all into the ground, uses them until they have nothing left to give, does not brook mischief or disobedience--he would retaliate against any one of your pranks as if it were a direct hit to his honor.” Henry chuckled without humor. “My own father can be a cunning bastard himself sometimes, and even he won't deal with them and forbids me as well.” I heard the sound of branches breaking on the other end. “And to think, of all the prospects available, your parents had to choose _them_ …!” 

“What prospects, Shawdun?!” I spat bitterly. “No one will have me after you. All of society knows me as ‘Shawdun’s leftovers.’ It was supposed to work, I was supposed to be…” He did not need to hear me airing my griefs, my childish wishes. I was no longer his to worry over. “But that is no matter. I _will_ get free of Farthingham, and I don’t need to whore myself out to my former captor to do it, mark my words.”

“Whore yourself!” Henry sounded horrified. “Philip, what the hell do you think I would--!”

“You’ve no right to say anything about John Farthingham, Mr. Shawdun.” I gritted out. _Help me._ “You’re just like him. Trapped me, just like him.” _What should I do, Henry? My parents are selling me away again._ “You’re an opportunistic brute and I feel sorry for the Marquis of Metley that you’re the best he could find.” I spat. _Fight me, Henry. Hate me, if only so you will stop pitying me._

“You’re right!” Henry exclaimed from his side of the hedge, and I froze. “I kept you trapped, Lord Mallory, in a connection you did not want. I disregarded your wishes, your freedom for the sake of my own selfish needs. I was ready to use you.” Henry sounded anguished, in pain. “I _am_ no better than him.”

I could only sit in silence on my side of the hedge.

A deep sigh. “But still, selfishly, like the bastard I am, I will ask you to let me help, Lord Mallory.” His voice begged. “John Farthingham is the worst choice of spouse for anyone, but he will destroy you. Your will, your spiritedness, your caring heart… He will use it all against you and he will use you to whatever ends he wishes. You cannot face him alone--”

“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do!” A turned angrily, yelling at him through the leaves. I realized again how preposterous that was and turned back round, facing away from Henry. “I will free myself of Farthingham, just like I freed myself of you. I don’t want your help, I don’t need your help!” _I’m scared, Henry. Terrified. I’m so alone._ “You--you just wait and see!” 

A pregnant silence fell. I waited to see what he would say. 

Henry sighed, quietly. “Then I will wait and see, Lord Mallory.” His voice was resigned. “I wish you all the luck in the world. And if you ever change your mind, know that you need only ask me. It goes without saying that I expect nothing in return--”

“Shh!” I hushed him quickly as I spotted a figure approaching my bench. I quickly straightened and sat casually, as though enjoying the evening. I realized resignedly that the approaching figure was none other than John Farthingham, come to seek me out. Lost in my conversation with Henry as I was, I had lost track of the time. I rose.

“John!” I quickly straightened my clothes and painted a smile on my face. “I was just on my way back, only I found this enchanting corner of the garden and I thought--”

“You little minx!” I felt a sharp sting as John’s hand slapped my face hard, whipping my head sharply to the left. “How dare you walk away from the ball without my permission! You embarrassed me in front of all my friends!”

Through the shock and pain, I had only one thought--Henry could not witness this. I moved my hand from my wounded cheek to John’s arm and tried to pull him away. “I--yes, apologies, John, we ought to head back before my parents--”

John yanked his arm out of my grasp. “And here you are in an abandoned corner of the garden all by yourself, like a whore waiting to meet…” He trailed off and the anger on his face was replaced by something truly ugly. “Do you have a secret beau, Philip? Hm? Is that who you were hoping to meet tonight?” John looked around, and I glanced behind me in a panic. He was tall enough to see over the hedge. John’s eyes tracked through the paths, beyond the lamp, over the hedge, and he stopped. I winced. “Well, it seems whoever your rendezvous is hasn’t yet arrived, Philip.” I sighed in relief then tensed in fear. Henry had left us alone. Suddenly I was grabbed roughly and shoved against the bench. John’s face leered at me as he stood over me, arms caging me in. “Shall we give your lover a show?”

I tried to scramble away, but John’s grip was strong. “Have you gone mad?!” I finally got enough leverage and shoved John away enough that I could stand once again. “Release me at once!”

John pulled me against him again and pressed his mouth to mine. I struggled, hitting against his chest as his mouth ate at mine. He lifted me off the bench and against him; grabbed my hips and pulled me close, one hand pressing my head against his shoulder, the other poised at the fastenings of my trousers.

“Shall we show them just how much of a whore you are, Mallory? Oh, please tell me it’s Shawdun, I’ve always wanted to make him _suffer_ , the self-righteous prick. Let me have a taste of you, just like you gave him.”

My face burned with humiliation. I tried desperately to push away, eyes darting around the garden over John’s shoulder and gasped as my eyes locked on Henry’s. He approached us stealthily from behind John, fists raised. I had never seen his face in such an expression before--ugly and murderous, eyes burning. 

“No, don’t!” I sobbed, staring imploringly in Henry’s eyes. If he fought John, my parents would demand an explanation and I would be forced to expose this humiliation to them. I could stop this. Henry froze.

John Farthingham froze as well. He did not see Henry, did not realize he was three steps away from being utterly laid out. “Don’t?” He asked, his voice gleeful. Henry began approaching again.

“No, please!” I begged, to both of them now, but my eyes were locked on Henry’s. Henry stopped again.

“What do I get if I don’t?” Farthingham’s voice was thready, dangerous. “What will you do for me so that I don’t take you right here in this abandoned corner of the gardens, Philip?”

Henry raised his fists again, ready to pounce. “If you do this, I will never forgive you!” I shouted, staring him down.

Henry froze at that, his eyes laced with pain. Slowly, as though his every muscle hurt from the motion, he lowered his fists and took a step back. But he did not move further away and his face remained murderous. If Farthingham did not unhand me, I shuddered to imagine what Henry would do to him.

John chuckled. “I suppose that would be a poor note to begin our marriage on.” His hand fondled my buttocks. “But I can’t have errant lovers distracting you from me before we are properly wed, now can I?” He pulled me away from his shoulder so we were eye to eye once more, hands stroking my thighs, then climbing up my sides and settling on my shoulders. “I think I will ask your parents that I be allowed to accompany you on all your outings from now on.” He looked down at me, his smile triumphant. “They wouldn’t want those wandering eyes of yours to lead you astray, not when your parents are so close to earning a fortune and their places back in society.” His hands rested lightly around my neck, squeezing slightly and he smiled. I felt the world shrink, pressing down on my shoulders. We both knew my parents would agree to John’s request without a second thought. “Now, apologize to me for embarrassing me in front of my friends.”

I lowered my eyes to the ground, wet with shame. “I’m sorry.” 

“Very good.” John’s sweaty hand yanked my chin up and he kissed my mouth again. “Now we’d best head back before your mummy and daddy miss you.” He chuckled “Wouldn’t want them to worry.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the gardens, away from my freedom.

Away from Henry. 

***

“Did you hear, Amalda?” Mother turned to Mrs. Farthingham two days later at our planned park picnic, ginger biscuit held delicately between her thumb and forefinger. “We have been invited by the Welsleys of Manor Park to travel abroad with them!” Mother sipped her tea happily and continued. “Mrs. Welsley approached me only yesterday with the news! According to her, they always felt that our… _absence_ from polite society was just a shame and would like to renew their acquaintance.” She tittered happily. 

“How nice,” Mrs. Farthingham murmured. “I personally hate travel. Odious, dirty business.”

My mind began to whirl with ideas. With my parents gone, there would be no better time to hatch a scheme from home. It was now the only place I was away from Farthingham’s watch, as my parents had happily agreed to limit my every excursion to one within his company. I hadn’t seen Margaret, and couldn’t even explain to her why.

“But of course, we will wait until our sons are happily married before even _thinking_ of stepping foot out of the city!” Mother exclaimed and my hopes fell. “Wouldn’t want anything to run amiss.” Her eyes pinned me down and I shrank back into my seat next to John. He reached out and took my hand tightly, nails cutting into my palm.

“That would be a crying shame indeed, Lady Mallory. I find myself quite besotted with your Philip already.” He turned to me, leering. I yanked my hand from his, but he only smiled indulgently, resting it on my leg. I fought not to flinch.

“You’re a good man to care for our Philip, John.” Father offered officiously over a sip of brandy. He turned to Mr. Farthingham, smiling. “He’s a credit to you, Frederick, no doubt about it.”

Frederick’s credit was once again inching his hand up my thigh. John’s squeezed my leg slowly, breath wet in my ear. 

“Yes indeed. My son is one of the finest gentlemen in the city. And your son is…” With John’s hand inching closer and closer to the center of my trousers I couldn’t even appreciate how much Mr. Farthingham struggled to say something kindly about me.

John’s probing fingers brushed between my legs and I leapt out of my seat, repulsed. “Enough!” I shouted. The Farthinghams startled and Mother and Father both stared at me furiously. I froze. “That is… I, er, I think I’ve had enough to eat for now, and--I’ve only just remembered! I scheduled an appointment at the seamstress to get my suit ready for the Maxry’s ball. She’s expecting me in less than an hour for the fitting.”

“But why didn’t you mention this earlier, pet?” John regarded me, eyes narrowed. “We are currently picnicking and I am due at a business meeting and don’t have the time to escort you. You will simply have to postpone your appointment.”

I summoned a shaky smile, looking anywhere but at him. “I simply cannot delay, though! It’s for the ball on Wednesday and if more adjustments are needed whatever would I do? It’s the finest suit--you won’t know what it is until the ball, but,” I forced my jaw to grind out the next words. They would be well worth freeing myself from him for at least a few hours' respite. “But I am confident it will please you.”

Mother’s eyes lit with approval. “How thoughtful of you, Philip.” She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Farthingham. “I think just this once, for the ball, it would hardly be inappropriate…” Her voice trailed off and she regarded John with an indulgent smile. “It’s so rare our Philip gets a romantic notion, and I’m sure whatever he has will be just to your taste, John.” 

John nodded his head reluctantly at her before turning to me. “I hope it meets my every expectation, my pet.” He murmured, and a shiver went down my spine. 

“Oh, I’m sure it will!” Mother tittered excitedly. She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Farthingham who were watching, bored. “I suppose we will only have your charming son to entertain us until he too abandons us for important pursuits?” They nodded, smiling primly. “And we’ll see you tonight in time for supper, of course?” she turned to me, eyes filled with warning. 

I swallowed. “Yes, yes of course.” 

It took every ounce of self control I had not to run from the park as quickly as my legs would take me.

***

The first thing I did when I arrived at Mrs. Blethely’s was point at the nearest suit and beg that she add the latest frills from the continent to it and have it sent to my house before Wednesday. I assured her that she simply must bill the Farthinghams _extravagantly_ for the rush and materials as well as a handsome tip. She nodded, lips pursed as she wrote down my request. Then I hastened toward Margaret’s workroom with all the speed I could muster, checking myself quickly right before the door and pasting on the closest thing to a smile I could manage before I knocked and entered.

Billy’s smile did a good job of erasing John’s leer from my mind. He greeted me as soon as I walked in, throwing himself into my arms and babbling about his day before pulling me into an elaborate game of skipping rope while Margaret set out tea.

“...And I tied it to the wall, see, so I only need me and Mama to play!” He beamed proudly.

I smiled widely, patting him on the back. “That’s remarkably clever, young Billy.” I turned to Margaret. “And how are you faring?”

“Well enough.” She poured tea into two mugs. “But it’s not me I wish to talk about, Philip.” I tensed and turned to her. “I hear you are to be married again.” Margaret looked at me compassionately. I nodded at her bleakly, any of my recovered joy at their company once again forgotten. She gestured at the open chair and pushed my tea closer. “Who have your parents chosen this time?”

I sighed, sitting. “His name is John Farthingham.” I muttered, taking a bracing sip. Chamomile this time. “And… I may not be able to visit as often as I’d like anymore… The wedding is in a month, and John is to follow me everywhere until then, lest I be _led astray_.” I looked around, taking in the walls of the small sanctuary before returning to Margaret. “I can’t bring him here.”

She raised her eyebrow. “John, eh?” Her face wrinkled and she looked out the small window. “The last John I knew was devil spawn, a right bastard, and I’ve yet to meet a John who isn’t.” She pushed her work aside and grasped my hands in hers, eyes regarded me carefully. “He isn’t rough with you, is he?”

“Oh… No! No, of course not.” My eyes darted away from hers, the lie bitter on my tongue. I pulled my hands from hers, rising to walk about the room and fiddle with the dress forms. “This is a beautiful gown, Margaret--is it for the Maxry’s ball?”

“I love you dearly, Philip, but you are as ever a miserable liar.” I sighed, looking down at my hands. She approached me from behind, but did not touch me. “I trust you’ve asked Henry to help you?”

“Why would I ask your brother?” I whirled to face her. “He’s not my keeper, and I don’t need him to look after me. He has Oliver, he has his wedding, he doesn’t want _my_ troubles.”

Margaret huffed out a breath. “Did you ask him?”

I looked away again. “No, of course not.”

“My brother is no fool, Philip, he notices when his friends are in trouble. He’s on a business trip, but when he returns and offers you help, I want you to say yes, okay?”

So Henry had washed his hands of me and left the city. I fingered the cuff of a bright red lace dress. “Certainly, Margaret.”

“Don’t you humor me, Philip!” Margaret’s hand grasped my chin and pulled me to her gaze. Her grasp was so different than John’s had been last night, firm, but gentle, caring. Her Shawdun blue eyes were dark. “You need your friends right now; this is hardly the time for pride! Now look me in the eye and promise me you will accept my brother’s help if he offers.”

Margaret’s tone reminded me so much of Henry’s. How he’d spoken to me before he’d seen me so disgraced at John’s hands.

I swallowed. “I…Well...Yes, of course.”

Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “He already offered, didn’t he? And you turned him down.”

I looked away and nodded.

“Why, Philip?”

I just shook my head mutely and walked away from her. Was it too much to pray that Henry’s last memory of me be a free man who earned it, instead of the shamed, desperate almost-husband of a brute? Why could no one understand that I had to free with my own two hands if it killed me?

“Henry wouldn’t judge you, you know.” Margaret pried gently. “He never judged me, after…” Her voice trailed off and I looked at her, stricken. I was bringing nothing but sorry news and bad memories to her door, when she had enough worries to be getting on with.

“Please, don’t worry about me, Margaret.” I hastened back to her side. “I’ve got a plan to free me from Farthingham’s clutches.” I caught her eye and gave her a bracing smile. “Everything will be okay, you’ll see.”

She smiled wanly at me. “Pray your plan doesn’t get you into trouble, Philip. I’m worried about you.”

“Now that’s the last thing I want!” I said firmly, finishing my tea. I turned to Billy, offering him the biscuit from my plate. “We don’t want your Mama to worry about anything in addition to the ridiculous amount of dress orders making demands of her skill, right Billy?”

He turned to me, half the cookie bulging out his cheeks. “What’s ‘rediclesness,’ Uncle Philip?”

Margaret and I both laughed and the tension was broken. “It’s when someone is so good at something that everyone stops to admire them. Like your Mama when she sews.”

Billy nodded enthusiastically. “And like Uncle Henry when he reads me stories.”

I couldn’t help a smile at the thought. “Exactly right, Billy.” I picked up my coat and hat and turned to leave. Evening was arriving all too soon. “I’d best be going now, Margaret.”

She nodded, tightening my scarf around my neck. “Take care of yourself, Philip. If you ever need somewhere to hide, come here at once. I’ll be quite put out with you if you don’t.”

My eyes welled up. “Thank you, Margaret.”

She patted me gently on the back before nudging me out the door. “Now go forth with your dastardly plan and get your freedom back.”

Right… the dastardly plan. I wracked my mind for ideas as I gave Mrs. Blethely a distracted farewell before wrapping my coat tight against the late autumn chill.

As I stepped out the door, my hat was blown away by a stiff breeze. I lunged for it at the same time as another man, wearing rough clothes. He picked it up and dusted it off on his sleeve before turning to me. I gasped. It was the man who had been following me the last time I’d visited. In all the excitement over my new engagement, I had forgotten about him. Clearly he had not done the same.

I shrank away from him. His beady eyes regarded me probingly as he slowly handed back my hat.

“Nice shop, is it?” He rasped, voice half gone from smoking.

“Yes…” I muttered distractedly, eager to be away from him. “Certainly, ah… nice dresses. Suit for me, of course, just er, put in an order...”

He finally let go of the hat and tipped his chin at me. “‘S what I hear.” He winked. “Place like that’ll make your dreams come true.”

“Er, certainly.” I muttered.

“Well, best be off.” He gave me a mock solute. “Day waits for no man, and all that…”

With that, he brushed past me and moved on down the street.

I turned to watch him go, plans forgotten. What could he possibly want from me? And why was he following me?

Only one way to find out. And it wasn’t as though I was in any hurry to arrive home. I chuckled darkly. If I was truly lucky, he would press gang me into the navy or stab me dead in a dark alleyway somewhere near the harbor. Then I would never have to see my parents or John Farthingham ever again.

Looking around carefully, I followed him.

***

He didn’t go far. We hadn’t walked for long when we arrived at a rundown alehouse in a scrappy part of town. I waited outside for a few moments, nervously. No use following the man all the way here only to burst in right after him and give myself away. Who knew what he might do? For all my bravado that had set me after him, I wasn’t eager to die, I realized with some relief.

After an eternity, I finally mustered up the courage. Leaving my bespoke hat and coat in the mud, I quickly added myself to a crowd of people approaching the alehouse door and entered with them. Like them, I ordered a pint of ale. Unlike them, I slowly made my way closer to where my quarry now sat with another man, drinking. I picked a table as close as I dared and sat, my back to them.

“...this is it, and there's plenty of bosh in it for you if you're in, Lucky.”

Plenty of what? What were they planning? I turned slightly, hiding my face behind my pint so I could listen better.

“But why you need me, Jackie?” Lucky’s voice was nasal and whiny.

“Well, last I checked, the bird’s a fighter,” Jack snickered. “Wouldn’t want any trouble. You in?”

“Yeah, alright then.” Lucky snorted. “That nob you passed on your way here with the ugly hat, I seen him before.” It was indeed an ugly hat, I agreed silently, grateful that I’d thought to leave the distinctive object behind. “What’s he got to do with this, Jack?”

I was quite certain I had nothing to do with anything, thank you very much. Only my own personal miseries. I paused as an idea occurred to me. Were these more of John Farthingham’s friends?

“Nahhh, he’s some poor nob, social climber. Ordering a suit or something,” Jack dismissed Lucky. 

“So what’s your plan then?” Lucky sniffed.

“Get there before that rich bastard returns and take what he took from me.” Jack laughed. “If he wants it so bad, he’ll have to buy it back--for a price.”

Lucky laughed loudly and cheered. “Yeah! Plenty of profit for both of us!" Then his face sobered. "So the bastard isn't not here but you said his lover is--what’s that you said then? Li’l thing, always flouncing around, smells like your mother’s garden?”

I couldn’t hold back a snort. Their target’s lover sounded like Mother, except she smelled more like sherry than flowers.

Jack snorted. “I picked the perfect night. His lover will be busy then.”

“Right.” Lucky sniffed again. “And you’re sure the bastard's not 'ere, right? He’s a right solid bloke, could knock me out on my--”

“You think I didn’t check? He’s made for the continent, I heard the landlady say somethin’ about that yesterday. He won’t be back until I’m good and ready for him.” Jack pounded the table. “Rich bastard thinks he can just take my boy from me and I wouldn’t make him pay for it. That’s rich people for ya, ya know.”

Lucky snickered. “Bloody rich nobs, think they can just take anythin’...”

Too right, I thought to myself, thinking of John. I felt eyes on me and looked up. The woman at the bar watched me, eyes narrowed. I quickly turned back to my table. Facing away from the men, I couldn’t hear as well, but I could still pick up some snatches of the conversation.

“...why now, Jackie?” Lucky’s voice floated over as I eyed a trio of drunk men slowly getting up from their table. I would join them once they had got their feet under them, I determined.

“‘Is old man ‘ad all their dosh before.” Jack's voice growled. “Don't care … useless to me.”

As intriguing as this plot was, I was now confident that it had nothing to do with me. My "old man" had no money, and neither did I. I sighed in relief. I had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And it sounded as though whoever they were planning to have a go at was very deserving and had had it coming for some time. I could still hope it was Farthingham.

“...not anymore!” Lucky laughed loudly, pulling me back to their conversation. “Let’s drink to it, eh?”

The men proceeded to toast each other happily. I looked around, preparing to leave.

“To Jacky!” Shrilled Lucky.

“To me!” Jack yelled and they drank deeply.

Three men slowly stood from their table and lumbered to the woman at the bar. 

“To you, Lucky!” Drink.

Slowly, the three men fumbled in their pockets for money.

“To Old Bonesy, rest his creaky joints!” Laughter and drinking.

Coins clattered on the bar counter and the barkeep frowned, counting them. I heard faintly as Jack and Lucky toasted to several more men of their acquaintance, focusing on them again as Jack called another name and they both shouted slurs.

“...rich bastard!” Jack hurled.

“And to William!” Lucky called.

Two of the drunk men heaved a third between and moved to drag toward the door, slow. 

“Of course, William!” Jack slurred. “Drink! Drink to our success!”

 _Drink to our success…_

Of course, that was it! I smiled as the beginnings of a plan began to form in my head.

I would get drunk.

I remembered Father’s words as he ranted at me with Mother the day I had dumped tea all over John. _The Farthingham’s want an honest marriage with an excellent noble family like our own; no scandals, and certainly no misbehavior from you._ John’s mocking tone followed soon after. _Now, apologize for embarrassing me in front of all my friends._ I would wait until our next public outing, drink to excess--or pretend to--and utterly humiliate myself, and by association them, in front of everyone gathered. Forget John’s wishes, his parents wouldn’t be able to wait to distance themselves from me.

“...And the sooner the better,” Jack slurred. “...Wednesday, ‘fore ‘e getsss back … no lover ‘n our way either…” 

Wednesday would be the perfect day: Lord and Lady Maxry were holding a ball--no doubt another desperate attempt to attract a suitable match for Roland. John and I were to attend with his parents present. I could think of no better place to put my plan into motion. Safe in the confirmation that these men’s ill will were not aimed at me, and excited by my own schemes, I rose, dropped a coin on the table, and hastened with the three very drunk men out the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH PHILIP MY BABY!!! T^T
> 
> But we have a plan at last! Next week: The Maxry's ball and Philip's plan is put into motion! 
> 
> TW: Sexual abuse and threats of rape


	5. Cheers to Our Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip attends the Maxry's ball and puts his own plan into action. But he keeps getting distracted...
> 
> See End Notes for TRIGGER WARNINGS

I arrived at the Maxry’s ball on Wednesday on John’s arm, flushed with excitement. I was dressed in my last-minute ensemble from Mrs. Blethley’s. _Make all your dreams come true,_ I remembered Jack’s words with a snicker, and looked down at myself. True to the brief, Mrs. Blethley had attached yards of needless frills to the collars and cuffs of my new dark green suit, and swapped out the more sedate dark metal buttons for square, bright mother of pearl statements that caught the candlelight of the room, blinding anyone who looked at me from the wrong angle.

My plan was simple, but I had to work gradually to make it convincing. Slowly “drink” myself into a stupor as the night developed, and once everyone had arrived, proceed to make an utter spectacle of myself. As I observed John’s rowdy game of whist with his friends, I felt my hands begin to sweat. Becoming aware of my gaze, he looked at me, and I quickly dodged his eyes, instantly berating myself for such a suspicious move. I had to calm down, or the whole game would be given away before it had even begun. I watched John yell in triumph as he threw down a card and felt my heart leap in my chest. If John discovered this farce, there was no telling what he would do to me. I gulped. I mustn’t be discovered at all costs. 

No, this way of thinking was no good at all. I shook my head and reached for my first glass of wine. I would not be drinking all the glasses of wine I took tonight, but one glass to settle my nerves would do fine. I held up the champagne and toasted the support post next to me with a small smile. _Drink to our success._

My mind idled back to the overheard conversation at the pub. I couldn’t help but ponder over whom Jack and his lackey Lucky (chuckle) were targeting. I searched my memory for the snatches of the conversation I’d heard. Whoever it was had recently inherited, but wasn’t here… The lover then: _Little thing, always flouncing around, smells like my mother’s garden._ The target’s lover must be a patron of Mrs. Blethley’s shop. Truly they were the flouncy sort then, as most of Blethley’s clientele were the sort for whom needless extravagance was key. And they had assumed I was involved since I patronized her shop as well, in a manner of speaking. Now, smelling like a garden--flowers? But that was hardly a distinguishing feature; many of the ball attendees wore small corsages around the wrist, and still others wore flowery perfume… Somewhere in these details, I was missing something important; it kept niggling at me, but I couldn’t--

“Philip!” I jumped and turned as Oliver approached me, toasting me with his glass. Behind him stroad Edmond, who looked as though he wished to be anywhere but here. They were both dressed tastefully in dark colored suits with minimum embellishment. “Edmond and I are attending the ball together tonight since Henry is still abroad on business.”Oliver sighed. “Ever since his father handed over the reigns he’s been frightfully busy, especially this last week--” 

Edmond nudged Oliver with his elbow. “I’m sure Philip has more important things to worry about than Henry’s business pursuits,” he remarked sardonically.

I did indeed have more important things to worry about, I reprimanded myself. Dwelling on two stranger’s drunken plans could wait until tomorrow. I had to focus tonight on getting rid of John Farthingham.

“Too true,” Oliver laughed sheepishly. He gestured back at Edmond’s annoyed expression. “In case it isn’t completely clear, Edmond didn’t actually _volunteer_ to come with me. I need to be here to represent the Shawduns in Henry’s place and didn’t feel like being ambushed by, er... well-meaning socialites all by myself.” Edmond rolled his eyes at that; he looked as though he would lay out the first well-meaning socialite who dared approach them with a well aimed blow. 

“And ah, Philip?” Oliver beckoned me closer, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar glass vial. “Just in case you ran out of the first one, I brought you more feverfew.” Edmond’s eyes followed Oliver as he handed the vial to me; Emond’s features softened and he smiled as the look of pride on Oliver’s face. “I’ve a small patch at the Shawduns now where I grow it myself.” Oliver beamed. “Father never saw fit to let me grow an herb patch in our own gardens.” I smiled my thanks, tucking it into my pocket.

“Would you like to stay with us during the ball?” Edmond asked, nodding subtly at John, who gave another victory cry, mowing more money greedily toward his side of the table. “Perhaps…”

“Oh no!” I insisted hastily. “No, tonight it’s best if I am… free to wander.” I winked at him and his eyebrows rose slightly in understanding. He smiled and reached for Oliver’s arm. 

“Well then… Dance with me, Oliver.” Edmond pulled away from me and Oliver gave me one last glance before complying, eyes turning toward Edmond with a small smile on his face.

I snagged another glass of wine from a passing tray as they left and dumped it into a potted ficus, placing the empty glass with the first two stacked on the table. My eyes strayed back to John. I still couldn’t help but wonder if Jack and Lucky _were_ friends of his. If so, he might know all about the plan they were hatching. Not that I could ask him. But perhaps he could point out the lover… He turned my way again and I quickly looked toward Oliver, spinning in Edmond’s arms. I snorted. If by garden they meant herbal smells, they need look no further than Oliver. He smelled of rich earth and green calming things all the time--

“Pet, get over here!” John interrupted my thinking and I yanked my head toward him. “Get me a glass of wine,” He ordered, his teeth barred in what he must assume passed for a genteel smile. I reached for a glass for him and another for me, handing it over blandly. His brow wrinkled curiously at my mute compliance before returning back to his game. 

This would not do. I had to focus on the matter at hand!

I retreated and the wine in my glass was given to the now mildly drunk ficus tree, before stacking the empty glass with the rest. Another soon joined it. I let myself begin to sway slightly where I stood, my eyes dropping to half-mast as I reached for yet more wine, stacking it the empty glasses behind me.

John gathered more winnings into his side of the table, laughing like a possessed man. _Rich bastard thinks he can just take my boy from me and I wouldn’t make him pay for it ..._ _Get there before that rich bastard returns and take what he took from me._ It was a simple enough scheme. Whoever their target was had taken someone important to Jack. But no, I corrected myself, Jack had waited to rescue his compatriot until he could get money out of it. So his compatriot was only as important to him as the amount of money he could earn by taking him back. I shook my head to refocus. That was all very fascinating, but now was hardly the time to dwell on it. 

I squinted, observing the room as I swayed slightly back and forth, allowing myself a better view. Who would I distress first in my “drunkenness”? I had to make a strong impression to be sure… Perhaps, between Lord Philton and Lady Margaret Eaves? 

Jack’s scheme rose again to the front of my mind. Something about it was bothering me, something I could put my finger on--

The clock struck and I forced myself back to the task at hand. It was time to act; no more distractions, no letting my mind wander. This was the very best scheme I had ever hatched, and could be my last chance. Grabbing one last glass of wine, I spilled it down my front, letting my suit soak in the stain and smell of alcohol before stacking the glass on the table behind me with the others. I waited until the band finished playing a gavot and the polite applause that followed quieted down. Then, right before they could strike up another number, I nudged my elbow into the tower of wine glasses behind me and sent them all crashing to the ground.

As one, the room turned to me and I waved drunkenly at them. I hiccuped. “‘S’beautivul evening, Luds… Ladies…”

I saw many a nose wrinkle in disapproval, but it wasn’t yet enough. I knew in order to truly pull myself away from the Farthinghams, I had to do something utterly scandalous. 

“I say, pet are you alright?” John asked. He had risen from his friend’s table and approached, annoyed, his nose wrinkling at the smell of alcohol rising off my clothes.

“I’m fine, Johnny pet.” I slurred, leaning heavily against him. _How fun to call him ‘pet’ back._ “You go back to your cardy games with all your rich, rich money. I’ll ssstand here ‘n’ watch the wine…” I trailed off and stumbled around the room. I would seek out Oliver and Edmond; surely I could rely on them to support my mischief. I didn’t have to search long, they hadn’t strayed far away from me. 

“Best not to wander while you are in your cups, Philip, pet.” John followed behind me, his voice dripping honey, but I knew his face behind me was furious. “Wouldn’t want to fall and hurt that pretty face of yours.” 

“If I make my pretty face ugly, ttthen we’ll match, Johnny petty.” I yelled airlily over my shoulder. Eyes now followed us around the room and, decision made, I approached Oliver. He looked at me curiously and suddenly a terrible, wonderful idea occurred to me. Henry wouldn’t be particularly happy about this to be sure, but there was no helping it. “But you’rrre a prettier face, Lud Oliver Marquis.” With that, I cupped Oliver’s face in my hands and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

A gasp rose in the room and Oliver stood frozen in shock. 

“Philip!” I heard Mother yell my name in horror. I turned to Edmond, expecting a conspiratorial smile, but his face was oddly blank. 

One day I would decipher what was happening between the two of them. But I would do it another time, as a free man. I winked at Edmond, then pulled him by his collar down to my height and kissed him too. Again the room gasped, louder this time, but I walked on, mildly aware that Edmond had grabbed Oliver’s arm and was pulling him from the room. I was off to an excellent start, but I knew in my gut that it wasn’t quite enough yet. 

John’s arms wrapped forcefully around me and he pulled me close against him, his teeth barred in a smile. “I would so hate for you to embarrass yourself in such pleasant company, pet.” His voice was all threats. 

I forced myself to giggle and fall lax against him. “Oh Johnnny pet.” I squinted up at him. “You know what my friend says? She says all the John’s she knows are right bassstards.” 

He made to speak, but I yelled drunkenly over him. “I just met someone named Jack on Sssunday, you think he’s John too? Issa nickname, you know. He’s planning to ruin someone in this room, Johnny pet, you know?” His brow was free of any recognition, creased only with anger at me. I reached for a ninth glass of wine from a waiter who stood near me, frozen in shock, and drank it down, throwing the glass on the ground in front of me. 

“You’d better control yourself, Philip.” John lowered his voice to a hiss. “I will not have my fiance disgracing me by getting himself drunk in the middle of a ball, my parents won’t have it,” For once, John seemed genuinely worried as he scanned the room, attempting to locate his parents. I could barely restrain my gleeful grin. 

I reached for another glass. “You know, this Jack and Lucky, they drank even more than I did and got ssso drunk they could barely ssspeak straight!” I slurred, and raised my glass to John. “To Jack! To Johnny pet!” I drank down half and raised it again. John tried to stop me but I raised it again. “To Old Bones, praise his creaky joints!” I giggled and raised my glass again. “To William!” I chuckled as a thought occurred to me. “It’s funny, ‘cause everyone has a nickname, ‘cept Wwwilliam. So boring. Will. Eee. Ummm.”

John growled angrily and took my glass away from me, shoving the waiter with the tray away as well. 

_To William._

I took advantage of his brief distraction to put distance between us, and weaved drunkenly out of his reach. I turned and my eyes landed on our furious hosts, the Maxry’s. 

Oh yes, they would do nicely indeed. 

I stumbled over to them, just fast enough to stay ahead of John’s desperate grabs. From the other side, Mother and Father were hastening.

_To William._

I was almost out of time. My eyes locked on Roland, who stared back at me, equal parts anger and fear in his eyes. He knew exactly what I intended.

_Philip, this is my nephew William Shawdun. Billy, I’d like you to meet my fiance, Lord Philip Mallory._

_Billy._

I froze in a panic and John all but crashed into me.

My mind could barely keep up as all the clues merged into a single narrative. Jack and Lucky hadn’t been following the targets to Mrs. Blethley’s for information. Their quarry _lived_ at Mrs. Blethley’s. Henry was on the continent for business and he hadn’t yet returned. Oliver, his fiance, would have been by Margaret’s to visit many times.

_He isn’t rough with you, is he?_

I should have struck me as odd that that was Margaret’s first question about John. The John from her memories--Jack--had raped Margaret all those years ago. Henry had saved Margaret and situated her at Mrs. Blethley’s. And Jack had found them,and had learned enough about their situation to meticulously plan his next move. Jack knew that Henry’s father didn’t care for Margaret or Billy and wouldn’t drop so much as a farthing for their welfare--but one glance at Henry and he would learn quickly enough that Henry would move heaven and earth for them. And so he waited until Henry came into possession of the Shawdun fortune before making his move.

_‘...Wednesday, ‘fore ‘e getsss back … no lover ‘n our way either…’_

Jack planned to kidnap Billy. Tonight. 

Perhaps he already had. _And no one else knows this scheme is afoot except for me!_

 _Oh you absolute fool!_ I couldn’t breathe for self recrimination and fear that kept my feet rooted to the floor. John Farthingham was yelling something at me but I couldn’t focus on it.

“...you drunkard!” He spat in my face.

 _Drunkard!_ Oh dash it all, my plan! It was my only plan, my last chance. I eyed the Maxry’s as they glared at me. I could still make it to them. I could still succeed at my scheme and earn my freedom. 

I eyed the Maxry’s again. Perhaps I could finish my plan and _then_ …?

In my mind’s eye, I was transported back to Margaret’s workroom. Their refuge. Billy looked up at me, his large smile and warm eyes. _I’m really happy you aren’t leaving us, Uncle Philip._

I screamed in frustration, and punched John in the chest harder than I had ever punched anyone. He jumped backward, more shocked than injured. I furiously scanned the room for Oliver and Edmond, but they still hadn’t returned.

“Philip!” Father had caught up with me. “Philip, come with us this inst--”

“Hush, Father!” I commanded him, not an ounce of my previous drunken slurring in my tone, and his mouth snapped shut, stunned. “I need to go.”

“Philip, you will stay _right here_ …” Mother was purple with rage. I was surrounded by curious eyes as they watched my transformation from drunken and lackadaisical to instantly alert and tense. John reached for me again, but I ducked away from his outstretched arms.

I ran from the room, making for the door as fast as my legs would take me, and the stunned crowd didn’t try to get in my way. I scanned the hallways and doorways furiously for Oliver and Edmond but they were nowhere to be seen. My chest seized in panic and I made for the carriageway, searching furiously for our family’s carriage.

The drivers wouldn’t leave without my parents, I remembered. I turned away from the carriage, heading instead to the end of the carriageway and the road. I waved my arms madly for a taxi, and one stopped eagerly for the gaudily dressed noble leaving the Maxry’s ball. I jumped aboard.

“Mrs. Blethley’s Fine Gowns & Costumery, as fast as your horses will go!” I shouted and the carriage jerked forward. I huddled in the back, praying, _praying_ I would be in time, that I had simply put the pieces together wrong, that, that-- _anything but that_!

“We’re here, my lord.” The driver called and I dashed out of the carriage, tossing whatever money I had in my pockets at him before I ran across the street. 

I stopped dead at the doorway. The candles in Mrs. Blethley’s windows weren’t burning and the door hung open, creaking in the wind. I heard a scream from the inner room and dashed inside.

I heard a low groan from behind the desk and ran forward. On the floor lay Mrs. Blethley, bound and gagged, a small trail of blood trickling from her forehead. Another scream sounded from Margaret’s room, Billy this time, and I didn’t stop to think. I ran forward and threw open the door.

Lucky and Jack stood right inside, separating Margaret from Billy. Margaret stood with a candlestick held aloft in her hand and Lucky held a knife, forcing her back. Behind him, Billy struggled against Jack’s punishing grip on his arm. Lucky whirled around at the sound of me slamming the door open and that was all the distraction Margaret needed to wallop him over the head. Lucky slumped to the ground and lay still.

But Margaret’s turned back was all the invitation Jack needed to let go of Billy and grab her.

“I’ll kill you, you bitch!” He shouted. He threw her to the ground and kicked at her brutally. I heard a horrible crack as his boot connected with her ribs and she cried out in pain.

“Stop!” I shouted.

Jack laughed and kicked at her again, this time at her leg. I heard another crack and Margaret screamed.

“You fiend!” I charged forward. Jack turned to meet me and with one well placed blow, I was on the floor, dazed, a throbbing pain in my jaw. 

Jack grabbed Billy and ran from the room.

“No!” Margaret sobbed, and struggled to rise, crying out as her leg gave out from under her. “Philip--please!”

Gathering all my strength, I struggled to my feet and stumbled after Jack. I spotted him trying to reach the shop entrance as Billy writhed in his arms, little feet kicking at every bit of him they could reach. 

“Stop that you little cretin or it'll be your mum next!” Jack growled. “And I won't be so gentle as I was the last time. You want a brother, Billy boy?!” 

I looked around madly, searching for the nearest thing I could use as a weapon, and spotted another of the shop’s candlesticks. I grabbed it and charged blindly at Jack, swinging it around with all my might and hurling it at his head.

He spotted me and dodged at the last moment, but the solid metal still clipped his temple before crashing through the glass window. He slowed and weaved about, dazed.

“Billy, run!!” I hollered.

Billy needed no further prompting. One good jerk from Jack’s arms and he fell to the ground and ran back to Margaret’s room.

I turned back to Jack who regarded me, livid. “You pox.” He swung at me, his fists catching me in the stomach in a rapid one-two punch that had me doubling over in pain. “I’ll kill you!”

Dizzy from the pain, I stumbled back and out of his range, my eyes searching desperately for another weapon. My eyes lit on a row of Mrs. Blethley’s solid wood hat molds. Beyond my control, a mad grin lit my face--I knew firsthand how much damage they could do.

I grabbed the first one and swung it wildly. It hit Jack in the ribs, and he stumbled back.

Another. I threw it and this time it hit him in the head. He staggered, but remained on his feet.

Grabbing the last one, I gave a great cry and charged. With a mighty heave of my arms that had both my shoulders screaming, I sent the hat mold at him with all my might.

It connected solidly and sent him flying back, through against the broken window. His body fell over and down, where it was pierced through by the jagged shards that still stood upright in the sill. His body jerked once and then lay still.

Outside I heard shouts of alarm as people began to gather, attracted by the fracas. I approached Jack carefully and held my hand below his nose. He did not breathe.

I stood frozen for a moment before recovering quickly and slapping myself to alertness. This was hardly the time to dwell when Margaret was badly injured, Mrs. Blethley tied up with her own ribbons, and poor Billy terrified. Grabbing Jack’s knife, I turned to her. She had awoken and watched with widened eyes as I reached for her bonds and sliced her free. 

“Stay here Mrs. Blethley, Margaret’s badly injured and I need to go to her”

She nodded her head gingerly and I rose and ran back to Margaret’s room. She lay where she had fallen, breathing hoarsely, poor Billy kneeling beside her.

“Margaret?!” I dashed to her side. 

“Phil...ip.” The response was hoarse and weak, but there.

“Oh thank God!” My eyes blurred with tears and reached for her hand, grasping it tightly. 

“He’s…. gone?” She asked, her eyes still wild with fear.

I nodded quickly. “Yes he’s--he’s gone.”

Her whole body relaxed. I turned to Billy, who sat far too still by her side. “Uncle Philip--is Mama… Is she gonna die?!” Hot tears ran down his face and he wouldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

“No! No, Billy, your Mama is hurt by the bad man, but she will recover and live!”

He shuddered and silent tears started to fall down his face. “What if the bad man comes back?”

“He won’t.” I gulped. “It’s over, Billy. He’ll never be able to hurt you again.”

Billy whirled and threw himself into my arms, sobbing. I could only hold him with my aching body and rock him back and forth.

“Philip,” Margaret gasped, and I looked at her again over Billy’s small shaking frame. Her eyes gleamed with tears. “How…?”

“I overheard them talking,” I rushed to explain, “I--I thought they were after me, but then I discovered they weren’t. And then tonight at the ball I realized they were after you.” I took in a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry I didn’t think faster, I could have saved you all this pain--!”

“Philip.” Even in pain, Margaret’s voice was stern. “Don’t you… apologize--” She gasped in pain.

“Don’t talk, Margaret.” I hushed her. It was all I could not to break out sobbing myself at her words, but there were more important things to focus on. “I think that scum broke your rib and I don’t want you to cause any more damage.”

“Blethley?” she coughed out.

“Also alive,” I confirmed. “A bit knocked about, but I don’t believe she’s injured. She’s worried about you.”

The shouts from the gathering crowd were now loud enough that they reached Margaret’s room.

I rose and settled Billy next to his mother. “I need to go and make sure you're safe from the crowds.”

“Don’t leave us, Uncle Philip!” Billy reached his small arms out again, begging, and it took all my willpower not to give in to him.

“Billy,” I kneeled down until I was looking him in the eye. “I need you to look after your Mama while I fetch more help. Can you be a strong, big boy and look after her for me?”

He hiccupped but straightened his small shoulders and nodded.

I gulped back a relieved sob. “Good lad, Billy. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I rose quickly and went outside.

The crowd had grown sizable and I could not move far beyond the front door. As soon as I exited, people began to shout questions, gesturing at Jack’s corpse.

One man pointed madly at me. “Hey! Isn’t that the nob what used to be engaged to Shawdun?”

Fresh murmurs arose from the crowd as more rumors swirled.

A man stuck his hand into my face. “Hi! The name’s Oshin, and I’m a reporter for the Daily Inquirer. Did someone say Shawdun?”

A journalist. Damn and blast.

Billy and Margaret were trapped inside the shop. Their resemblance to Henry was too strong to deny the relation to anyone who thought to make the connection, and with his name floating around thanks to my association with him, the journalist would. If word got out about them, Henry’s father would find out too soon about Henry’s plans to bring Margaret and Billy back into the Shawdun family and he would put a stop to Henry’s plans. 

They wouldn’t die, to be sure. With Jack no longer a concern, they would be alive and safe here at Mrs. Blethley’s. But they would forever be in hiding--or worse. Billy’s future would be in question, and Margaret would be forever cast aside for something that was not her fault.

And Henry. Ever since Margaret had been banished, Henry had dedicated his whole life to restoring hers. He’d been willing to marry me, and then Oliver; he’d lived with the father he despised, taken on the family’s company and businesses, all toward this one dream. One word in a gossip column and it would be shattered. I remembered Henry’s face as he first introduced me to Billy and Margaret. Bright, filled with pride and joy as he told me his plans for them. He had come so close.

A carriage rolled up behind the crowd and Edmond emerged from it, running up to me. “Philip, your parents are coming.” I jerked. For a moment I had forgotten my own situation. If my parents found me standing in front of a dead body, sober as a vicar, the consequences would be dire. “The Farthingham’s paid off your driver to take them where he took you and I followed in my carriage. As soon as I realized your destination I went on ahead, but they’re right behind me.” He gestured past the crowd, where two carriages clattered to a halt on the street and Mother and Father, followed closely by all three Farthinghams, started fighting their way through the crowd. “I’ll intercept them, distract them for long enough while you run.”

Edmond would take over. He could prevent the reporter from entering while Margaret and Billy ran away.

But they couldn't run. Margaret had a broken rib and I suspected a broken leg. Someone needed to help them. And another someone needed to guard the door until they left.

“Edmond, is Oliver with you?”

Edmond frowned. “No, I sent him home, why?”

My parents came closer, John leading the way, elbowing and knocking his way through the crowd. It would be a matter of minutes until he spotted me.

_Move, Philip. Henry’s nothing to you now, and he can look after himself._

_Who are you fooling? You can call him nothing in your head all the live-long day, but you know the truth._

_Philip, this is your whole life._

_And they are his whole life. He loves them more than even himself._

_Enough of this nonsense! They haven’t spotted you yet--If you scurry home now, fake an illness, you have a chance of getting away with all of this so you can try again another day! Move!_

My foot moved. 

In my mind’s eye, Henry advanced on John, his face filled with murderous intent. For me. And he had stopped. For me.

I planted my arms more firmly in the doorway, keeping the reporter from entering. “Edmond, I believe _your sister and her son_ are waiting for you to take them to your new clerk’s residence for tea. Your sister is feeling a bit under the weather and wants to see you as soon as possible. I’ll give Mrs. Blethley _a few more minutes_ to recover before I let this reporter question her about the _burglary._ ”

Edmond’s eyes widened. “Philip, no! You need to leave.” He pointed around the back. “ _You_ should go with my sister, not me!”

I shook my head, “And risk bringing my parent’s wrath upon them? Or worse, the _Farthingham’s_ wrath?! John’s wrath?” I scoffed, and breathed deep to stop any tears. “I should think bloody not, now go!”

Edmond hesitated. “Are you certain?”

_No._

“Yes. Go, now! You know what’ll happen if you don’t!”

Edmond gave me a curt nod and dashed away. I stayed where I was by the door. He would only need a few minutes to whisk Margaret and Billy away to the Chiltons where they could stay until all the hubbub died down. I closed my eyes and sighed. Margaret could be treated by a doctor there and Billy would be able to share in the comfort and warmth of all the children.

Only a moment after Edmond ran to the back window, John Farthingham’s eyes found me and he approached until we were nose to nose. He grabbed my arm and tried to jerk me from the doorway. My body, still aching from the fight, wailed at the strain, but I held my ground. “You insufferable little--!”

“Careful John,” I gritted out, nodding at Oshin. “This man here is a journalist. Wouldn’t want him to say anything unsavory about you, hm?”

John froze and stopped pulling at me. I sighed in relief and remained blocking the door. Oshin’s eyes tracked us excitedly, jumping between myself and John. “What did you say your name was, Mr…?”

“No one of consequence.” John interrupted imperiously. “I’ve only arrived to collect my sweet pet here,” he grabbed my arm in a punishing grip. “His parents were so very _worried_ about him.” He continued to hold my arm clenched in his fist while I watched in despair as Mother and Father approached, followed soon after by the Farthinghams themselves.

“Let’s meet them halfway, shall we?” John demanded through gritted teeth, and yanked me away from the door. At once I saw Oshin run through it and prayed that Margaret and Billy had escaped in time. He dragged me to where my parents had stopped, a few feet away from the hubbub.

“The shame of it!” Mother wailed. “Oh, to imagine what they all must’ve thought of us after that horrible performance you put on. To be exposed to so much ridicule in a single night--”

“Enough.” Father interrupted her in a firm tone. “Philip, your behavior this evening was unconscionable. You are very fortunate to have gotten John as a fiance--he will tame your wild behavior and make you an honest, good spouse who stops bringing shame to his whole family. And the sooner the better.” 

“As a charitable Christian, I still agree to marry my pet here. We aren’t all of us little cowards like Shawdun.” John nodded officiously. Then he furrowed his brow, as if deep in thought. “But I’m so terribly worried about what kinds of mischief he might get up to while we wait until the wedding day...”

_No!_

“Then we will bring the wedding forward. “Father insisted.” He turned to the Farthinghams who looked at each other, considering. 

Mr. Farthingham spoke up. “How about in three day’s time?”

Father nodded. “Very well. The wedding will be in three day’s time.”

“What?! Father, no!” 

“ENOUGH!” Father slapped me in front of Mother and the Farthinghams, and I clapped a hand to my face, hurting and humiliated. “It is not the grand ceremony any of us would have wanted, but it is the only one you are still worthy of. Now, there will be no more mischief, no more attempts at dodging your duty. You will remain at home under strict supervision until the wedding and you _will_ be marrying John Farthingham in three day’s time.”

John grabbed for my arm when a carriage rattled to a stop right next to us and Edmond climbed out.

“Lord and Lady Mallory, Mr. and Mrs. Farthingham,” he bowed. “There’s been a terrible misunderstanding here, I assure you--”

“You have no place here, Lord Ray.” Father interrupted coldly. “I hope you don’t think we’ve so quickly forgotten _your_ part in this whole affair!” I blanched--he assumed Edmond had been in on my spontaneous kiss the whole time. “Now, if you please, we’ve had a trying evening, and Philip needs to return home to prepare for his wedding.”

Edmond bowed again, looking miserable. I saw a small hand reach under the window sash and startled. “Yes, Edmond, I think you’d better go.” I nodded urgently at the carriage and he shook his head at me in dismay before turning back and leaving.

“Let’s go, Philip.” Father made for my arm. 

Suddenly a thought occurred to me and I jerked away and ran toward Edmond’s carriage. “Edmond!”

Edmond turned.

“Philip, that’s quite enough--” Father started, but I ignored him.

“Edmond, don’t tell him!” I gasped. “As far as he’s concerned, I had nothing to do with all this, it was all you! And tell Margaret and Billy as well.”

Edmond’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Why would I lie and--”

“Edmond, he already feels like he owes me enough.” I blustered. Edmond had to understand; he had to promise. “He has a happy future ahead of him, he doesn’t need to keep looking back over his shoulder.” Margaret and Billy were safe. Billy would inherit. A scandal was avoided, and Henry’s dreams would come true. “ _Don’t tell him it was me.”_

“Philip--”

“Philip, we are leaving at once!” Father interrupted, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the carriage. I twisted back and caught Edmond’s eye one last time.

“ _Edmond--”_

“I won’t!” He shouted angrily. “You’re a bloody fool, Philip, but I won’t.”

I sighed in relief and gave up the fight. Limp as a rag doll, I followed Father’s jerking arm into the carriage and let the door slam on the last of my freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHHHHHH my heart is strained. It hurts 😭😭😭 My poor baby is just a tad thick, but he comes through when it matters!
> 
> TW: Mentions/threats of rape, violence, attempted kidnapping.


	6. I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip makes his way steadily to the worst day of his life.

I lay in my bed, staring up at the wall with the crack in it. I had spent much of the day in this fashion, laying on the bed, restless and dispirited; the other half of the day was spent pacing. Meals had been sent up but I ignored them. The last two days had been committed to wracking my brain for anything,  _ anything _ I could possibly do to run from this marriage. The first day I had banged on my locked door, hollering curses at my parents and begging them to change their minds. After an hour of ignoring me, they left the house for social calls and did not return until the next day. I’d tried bribing the servants, but they had all been hired by the Farthinghams and weren’t interested in helping me. Last night I‘d attempted to climb out the window and escape, only to see guards posted below, ready to escort me back to the house if by some miracle I escaped the fall. 

There was no helping it. Unless by some miracle God took my life tonight, by noon tomorrow I would be married to John Farthingham.

I sat up. I couldn’t simply lie still. After tonight, this was it. I had escaped once, but not again. I lay back, lost.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Philip, dear?” I heard the sound of the door unlocking and Mother entered my room, carrying a large bundle. 

I didn’t bother to move or greet her. Mother wrinkled her nose at the stale smell. I knew I looked a mess, unshaven and unwashed. The last time I had cleaned myself was after saving Margaret and Billy, and needed to remove the bloodstained clothes lest they haunt me. Three days ago I had killed a man. Tonight, I was as good as dead.

“Philip, dear, you simply mustn’t conduct yourself like this.” Mother fretted, as though I cared at all for her good opinion. 

I didn’t respond. 

“You are a gentleman’s son, and gentlemen simply do not let themselves get so… haggard, Philip. This is the way of things and that’s that.”

Her way of things could take a long walk off a short pier as far as I was concerned. I continued to ignore her. 

“I have some good news for you.” She smiled brightly at me. “You know your father likes a turn at the card tables as much as the next man…” she trailed off and I could barely hold back a snort. Father was an addict for gambling and pretending it was anything less than that was a joke. “Ahem, anyway, last night he played against a gentleman--a nephew of the Maxry’s visiting for the ball. The gentleman was a good player, but nowhere near as good as your father, of course.” mother settled herself in for the story, lightly placing the package at the foot of my bed. “You father took him for everything he had!” She giggled like a child, “And I’ll have you know, that was quite a sum! It’s a wonder the Maxry’s themselves are so poor when their distant relatives are so terribly rich. We could travel for years undisturbed with the amount your father won last night--and we fully intend to once you are happily settled in your new marriage.” She smiled at me brightly and I could barely contain my disgust. I lay silently and prayed for her to leave me and take her childish delight with her.

“Of course when I heard of his winnings, I immediately thought of you.” She winked. “And I did something for you--something your father doesn’t need to know about.” Her eyes caught mine in a mischievous grin. I met her stare, the tiniest bit of hope stirring in my chest. 

“Are…” My voice cracked, hoarse with disuse. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Are you saying you’ve… broken off the engagement, now that you’ve come into money?”

She looked away. “Oh Philip, no, don’t be silly. We are members of the nobility and with that comes certain lifestyle expectations.” She waved her hand to the room around us. “We could hardly hold our heads up in public if we stayed in this crumbling home, and once your father’s winnings run out, what then? Do you truly think that anyone would want you after the Farthinghams are turned away? I should think not. No, no,” She reached for the package and unwrapped it carefully. “I managed to squirrel away just a bit of your father’s winnings and bought you a beautiful new suit for tomorrow.” She held up a velvet suit, the color a deep shimmering blue. It reminded me of Henry’s eyes. “The buttons are from the continent and the shirt is made from a rare silk that isn’t easy to find.” she giggled proudly, surveying the ensemble. “I do believe I have outdone myself this time.”

I fell back down on the bed and rolled away so I did not have to see her face or the suit. If I looked much longer, I would tear them both to shreds.

“Philip?” I wished she would leave.

She sighed. “I… Philip, I’m sorry. I know John Farthingham isn’t the...  _ dreamiest  _ gentleman in all of the city, but he is willing to marry you and he is quite rich. I’m sure…” She paused, and her tone firmed. “I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable with him.”

I sat up and looked her direct in the eye. “Comfortable?! He’s a brute, Mother, an utter bastard who treats me like his plaything and can’t wait to spend his days bullying me, fucking me, and belittling me until I am a shadow of myself! And it will bring him  _ joy, _ Mother, to do that to me. But please, do go on about how much I will just  _ adore _ the depths of his wallet.” Mother’s eyes widened, but it wasn’t with shock, I noted. It was guilt. “Look me in the eye, Mother, and tell me you didn’t realize that when you first set up our marriage.” I didn’t realize I was begging until I heard my own voice echo back to me. Even now, I was pathetically desperate for her to care. “Look at me please, and tell me you didn’t  _ know _ what kind of man he was before you made the match!”

She wouldn’t look at me. Her eyes were trained carefully on my wedding suit and she smoothed out invisible wrinkles with shaking hands. “I… I wasn’t terribly fond of your father when we first met either, Philip.” She mumbled. “But with time, I learned to love him. I’m sure if you make an effort, you and John Farthingham can reach an amiable arrangement.”

“Get out!” I shouted. “I never want to see your face again! You have set me up for ruin to keep yourselves in comfort and  _ I hate you _ !!” I jumped out of bed and grabbed the suit from her hands, rending it in half.

“Philip--!” She gasped in horror. “How dare you--”

“HOW DARE  _ YOU _ !” I screamed back, eyes blurry with tears. “Get out!!”

She ran from the room, slamming it closed behind her. 

I held the two halves of the suit in my hands and sobbed until I passed out.

***

The morning was a blur of preparations. Servants walked in and out, tugging me in various directions as I was shaved and stripped and outfitted in clothes I did not take note of. All I could feel between waves of dread was numbness. In a few hours, I would be forever under the thumb of John Farthingham while my parents traveled the continent with their new money. I wanted to die.

Soon, polite but firm arms were directing me out of my room for the first time in three days. The sun felt especially bright and I wished it would go away and never return. The sun had no place in a day like this.

I was walked to a coach, and two large men seated themselves on either side of me. I could not escape. The wagon journey passed in a blur of misery and then I was walked back out and escorted into a small chapel, where the men sat me down in a small side chamber. Father entered, and he started speaking to me, but I ignored him. His voice rose and fell, and he sounded annoyed. I didn’t care.

“...duty! … proud, son.”

My mind sparked at those words and I looked up at him. “I am not your son.”

He jumped at the sound of my voice and looked down at me. Whatever he saw in my eyes made him pause. 

“I am no longer your son, Lord Mallory--I want no part in your fortunes, your lands, your legacy. I wish I could kill you both for what you are doing to me today and then I wish to die.”

He stared at me, mouth slack with shock, before he smothered it in righteous fury. “You mother was too soft on you, Philip.” He scoffed. “You are too spirited and willful, no true understanding of what is right and necessary. You may not understand the duties of an earl yet, Philip, but someday you will. And on that day you will thank me for this.” With that he swept from the room. 

My mind retreated again, and an uncertain amount of time later, the two men flanking me lifted me by my arms and pulled me into the chapel proper. 

Music was playing, but I knew not what kind. My feet would not move and my escorts were all but dragging me past empty pews to the end where John stood waiting, a satisfied and victorious smile on his face. I felt a lump in my throat thicken and all I wanted was to sob, but I gathered all of my reserves and stamped it down. John did not deserve my tears and I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. 

On either side of the dais stood my parents and the Farthinghams. Neither approached me as I arrived at the dais where a priest waited.

I was deposited across from John, and the two men on either side of me released my arms but did not leave my side. They would ensure that until the last moment I would have no escape.

“In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together to witness the marriage of…” The priest began, words flowing around me, and I looked at my own feet. I would stay numb, would not cry, would enter this marriage with as much dignity as I could muster. There would be no escaping it, and John would have my body by tonight, but by God, he would never have my soul, and I would fight every day to keep my spirit no matter what he did. That solemn vow decided, I looked up and fiercely into his eyes. He winked.

“.....that they may fulfil God's purposes for the whole of their earthly life together.” The priest paused and looked to my parents first before his eyes rested on the Farthinghams with a smile. I had no doubt who had paid him to conduct this wedding. He began speaking again. “Anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, to declare it now.”

No one spoke. My soul urged me to speak once more, to take one last chance, but my mind shut it down. I had nothing to support it with and if I spoke I would cry. The only thing left to me was my dignity and I would hold onto it for as long as I could bear.

The priest nodded satisfactorily and continued. “John Farthingham, will you take Philip Mallory to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

John’s smile grew. “I will.”

The priest nodded and turned to me. “Philip Mallory, will you take John Farthingham to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others--”

The doors of the chapel slammed open and Edmond and Oliver walked in, dragging an irate and flustered looking man between them.

“Wait just a moment!” Edmond barked, he and Oliver heading straight for the dais.

_ What…? _

I looked up at them and Oliver met my eyes with a kindly smile. Edmond was focused entirely on the Farthinghams and he stopped right in front of them. “I’m afraid you haven’t been completely up front with your future in-laws as to the state of your finances.” He spoke briskly and shoved a document under Mr. Farthingham’s nose to inspect. “It would seem your businesses are in deep trouble and through a spectacular oversight on your part, you are likely to lose everything.”

“What?! Impossible!” Mr. Farthingham looked shocked. He turned to the stranger standing between Edmond and Oliver who looked as though he truly wanted to be anywhere except where he was standing. “What is the meaning of this, Chester?!”

“I… I don’t know, sir!” Chester sweated a river as he stumbled to explain. “I swear everything was running just fine, but one of our clerks discovered a… rather fatal oversight… Your shareholders are all in a fracas, sir. Something about your responsibility, and…” his voice faded away and he shrank as Mr. Farthingham glowered down.

“Well, what is it, man?! Out with it!” 

“They…” The man gulped. “They want to vote you out of the company, sir. A… a vote of no confidence. They’re worried your mistake may... may cause the enterprise’s collapse.” These last words were uttered at a squeak.

“ _ Mistake?! _ ” Mr. Farthingham’s eyes blazed. “I never make mistakes! Whoever is responsible for this oversight is a dead man, do you hear me?!” Chester looked as though he might faint and collapsed onto a chair. Mr. Farthingham reached for his coat. “I must attend to this at once!” He waved his arms at the priest. “Finish this business quickly, I must leave for the continent!”

“I should think not!” Father jumped in quickly. “This marriage is to secure our child’s financial future! If yours is so uncertain, I should hardly think we would be tempted to shackle ourselves to an empty connection!”

Both of the Farthinghams swelled in rage. “An empty connection!” Farthingham barked. 

Mother jumped in. “What my husband means to say is--”

“Pah!” Mr. Farthingman dismissed her. “It is you who is the empty connection, Mallory! You and your repulsive son! The only reason we are still standing here is because John insisted upon it to settle an old grudge! I will not stand here and be insulted further!” He walked up to the dais and pulled a stunned John after him, his wife following behind them, her thin nose in the air. “Consider the contract nullified, Mallory! I will sort out this misunderstanding and you will stand on the sidelines and watch as your best opportunity slips from your greedy fingers.”

At the doors, he turned one last time. “Mark my words, Mallory, that minx of a son of yours will never find a partner. He is the laugh of the city--the whole country! He will never find a place and no one will ever have him!” With that, the Farthinghams stepped out and slammed the door behind them. The priest didn’t hesitate before he followed.

I stood at the dias, numb. Oliver ran up to me and took my hands in a warm grasp. “Philip. Philip?” I forced my eyes to focus on his face and he smiled at me, his eyes watery. “It’ll all be okay, Philip, you’re okay now.” His hands went up to my shoulders, squeezed my arms, pulled me into a hug and I fell limply into it, still dizzy.

“What… What happened?” I gasped.

From somewhere I heard Edmond chuckle. “While abroad, one of Henry’s secretaries discovered an error in a shipping manifesto. He went to set it right and instead found himself on a trail that led him straight to a critical flaw in Farthingham Enterprises that threatened the entire company. Henry paid a courier to express that information to us in time” He reached out as well, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “All we had to do was verify the information with one of Farthingham’s own accountants and then we dragged him here in case Farthingham himself had any questions.”

“I believe we owe you a debt of thanks, Sir Edmond.” Father’s voice interrupted my new contentment. “And I would like to offer you an apolog--”

“You have no place here, Lord Mallory.” Edmond’s voice was colder than I’d ever heard it as he repeated my father’s own words to him from three days previous. “I think you and Her Ladyship had best be headed off before word of this reaches the wrong ears.”

“I… You…!” Father struggled between anger and the unspoken knowledge that Edmond was right. He cleared his throat. “My dear, I believe we ought to inform the Welsleys that we would be delighted to take them up on their invitation to travel, and the sooner the better.” He clucked his tongue. “I think this is the perfect time to tour the continent if I do say so myself, and our miserable son has put us through enough trouble that we are well owed some peace and quiet among genteel, cultured folk.”

“What about Philip?” Mother murmured. “The Welsleys did not include him in their invitation.”

“I think Philip needs some time to reflect on the consequences of his misbehavior and willful ways. Time spent alone in penance would be just the thing, I think.” Father turned away from me and I heard him hasten to Mother’s side. “We do not expect you to dinner tonight, Philip.” He directed this to me. “You do not deserve a place at our table after the ruin you have wrought us twice over.” I was not to blame for this, but in his head, it had already become my fault. “I’m sure one of these riff-raff will be able to put you up until we leave for the continent.”

“But Aloysius--”

“Enough Elizabeth!” Father barked. “You spoiled him too much and the results stand before you. Now we are leaving.” I did not look at them as they too, departed the church, leaving me alone with Oliver and Edmond.

“I don’t…” I could barely make my mouth move. Too much had happened too quickly. “I--I don’t understand, I--”

“You have your choice of either of our residences to stay until your parents depart, Philip.” Edmond cut is briskly. His hand squeezed my shoulder again. “You are of course, welcome to stay longer than that should you like.”

“Edmond, give him a moment,” Oliver pulled another bottle out of his pocket and held it under my nose, his hands still stroking my back comfortingly. “Take a sniff, it will help you with the shock.”

I sniffed and all at once, my mind screamed at the sharpness of the herbs and my eyes widened. “Oh dear, I wouldn’t have taken so deep a breath as that.” Oliver remarked in alarm, and quickly restored the vial to his pocket.

I was certainly awake and aware now. “I can’t believe… I thought that surely by the end of this day, I--”

“You can thank Henry’s excellent secretary’s good eye for it.” Edmond smiled warmly at me. “And Henry as well--he requisitioned the fastest ship in their fleet to bring the news to us in time.”

“I must thank him.” I mumbled in disbelief. I made to move but Edmond and Oliver held me back.

“He’s not yet back in town, I’m afraid.” Oliver said. “The flaw affects Shawdun Shipping as well and there’s quite a bit left to sort out before he can return home.”

I couldn't even thank him for it. “I… What on earth shall I do next?” My mind swam with the possibilities of what my future might bring. My parents had washed their hands of me. I could marry for love now. I could--

“Well, there is that small matter of a vacancy in my company.” Edmond remarked and winked at me. “It’s no Farthingham Enterprises or Shawdun Shipping, but the salary is good and you would have the exclusive privilege of working alongside me and your dear friend Chilton, who truly is everything you told me he would be and more.”

_ Chilton _ . “How are Margaret and Billy!” I asked. “And Mrs. Blethley! In all the… I can’t believe I forgot, I must know--”

“Margaret has been seen to by one the best doctors in town and she will recover fully. Billy is sleeping in a large room with a veritable pile of other children who all adore him and he them. They are safe and settled for now at the Chilton-Hawthorns until Mrs. Belthley’s shop is set to rights, no worries.” Edmond smiled at me. “But you are still an utter bastard for making me abandon you the way you did.”

“You swore them to secrecy?”

“Yes I did, and for both of those things you owe me, Mallory.” Edmond held out his hand. “Pay me back by accepting my job offer?”

The sun broke through the chapel windows, but it paled in comparison to the light that swept through my body. This day that ought to have been a tragedy was now the first day of the rest of my life. 

I had to thank Henry. I had to see him. But first...

I reached for Edmond’s hand and shook while Oliver looked on, beaming. “I would be honored, Edmond.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE LIKE "I DON'T" 😆😆😆 My boy is free!! Oh, happy days! Now onto Philip beginning his new life!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who comments! They are food for my soul! No comment is too big or too small, y'all make my day ❤️


	7. Detestable Hoi Polloi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip has a journey yet to go, and he cannot do it alone.

I lay still in a soft feather bed, held securely in a warm embrace. The blanket surrounded us comfortably, and I felt a light pressure against my back as the chest behind me rose and fell. I sighed, content. I knew whoever was with me treasured me, would not hurt me, loved me. Accepted me, bumbling fool that I was. 

I turned around, determined this time to see who it was and as I turned I fell, down down down onto a cold stone floor. I looked around in confusion. I was in the church antechamber. There was a pressure behind me again but this wasn’t the same; it was demanding and rough.

“Oh pet. You were _so close._ ” John Farthingham’s voice snickered against my ear and he shoved me down the aisle, his henchmen flanking us on both sides. 

“No! No, you don’t understand! I shouldn’t be here, I--”

“What?!” He laughed cruelly, “Thought you could just get out of my grasp--and then what? You thought someone else would actually _want_ you?! You're a burden on all those people you call _friends_ , Philip. They stay near you because you amuse them, nothing more. Oh, and imagine how they must sigh in annoyance _every_ time you need them for just _one more thing_ …” We were almost at the dais now. My parents stood there watching me, their faces expressionless.

“You always failed us as a son, ever since you were a lad,” Father murmured, eyes filled with contempt.

“This is what you were born for, Philip.” Mother’s gaze was pitying as she gazed down on me. “You’ll learn to love this someday, you’ll see.”

“I won’t! I won’t do this!” I screamed at them all, and struggled in the arms that held me in front of the priest as he smiled, his mouth wide and filled with too many teeth as he started the ceremony.

“Yes you will, Philip.” Now John Farthingham’s face was right in front of mine, it was all I could see. “You already did. And you didn’t even say a word against it, did you? Didn’t raise a hand! Chose to _go with dignity_ , not to open your mouth and make one last bid for freedom… My pampered pet, you know as well as I do this is what you truly wanted. Where would you go if you got free? You’re useless for work, a burden on all your relations… Best just to give in and let it happen so they can see how _strong_ you are, right?”

“It’s not true!” I struggled more, and the arms tightened. I gasped for air. “I’m saying it this time, I’ll say it now-- _I don’t_!”

“In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together...”

“ _I don’t, I DON’T_!”

John’s eyes became black and bottomless, they sucked me in. “Say _you do_ , Philip, or this will never end. No one will save you. Your _friends_ are all glad to be rid of you, just like your parents are.”

“I…” The words failed me. John was right. I would go with dignity, there _was_ no other way. My friends had indulged me enough, my parents would only sell me off to an even worse man than John if I refused this. It was all hopeless. I stood there frozen again at the dais as John said “I do,” and his hands lifted my jaw so he could kiss me and seal my fate.

“NOOO!” I sat up and fell off the bed, fighting the covers twisted around me as I gasped for air. I lay on the floor of a very fine room, surrounded by rich drapes, exactly as I’d imagined the Farthingham’s home would be.

“No!” I ran from the room in my nightshirt. “No, no, no!” 

_I should have said_ No, I don’t _, shouldn’t have held my tongue and just stood there numb, should’ve begged, no, I should’ve died before just_ standing _there…!_

I raced through the corridors. “I take it back! I don’t--Oof!” I crashed hard into someone and fell backwards. He, to his own credit, stayed fairly upright though he swayed mightily. He took a step toward me and I crawled backward in a blind panic.

“No, no!”

“Philip! What the dickens is the matter?!”

 _Edmond. I was staying at Edmond Ray’s townhouse. I wasn’t at the Farthinghams. I wasn’t married._ All at once, I collapsed to the floor, relieved. _He and Oliver came in on your little martyr’s moment and saved you, Philip, remember? You were ready to give it all up and your friends had to help you. Again._

“I…”

“Philip, what’s wrong?” Edmond reached a hand down but I brushed it off, climbing to my feet and attempting to pull myself into a semblance of togetherness.

“I… Well, I--it’s been a long day and I simply…” I fumbled, focusing on putting myself to rights to buy time. “I…I presume my nerves must be getting the best of me--tomorrow being a big day and all that, first day of work... So sorry to disturb you...” I turned to go back toward my room.

“Philip?” He was disbelieving at best. 

I cleared my throat and faced him again. “Truly, I’m so sorry Edmond. I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind when you volunteered to take me in so suddenly--but rest assured, I fully intend to return to my parent’s home as soon as--” _as soon as they have abandoned you, like Edmond will if you don't pull yourself together, man!_ “...As soon as they have departed on their trip.” I rummaged up a small grin. “Now, I’d best get a good night’s sleep, tomorrow is my first day of work for you and I want to be at my best.” I gave him a quick nod, not meeting his eyes, before I turned and walked quickly back to my room. I lay back in the bed, forgoing the heavy comforter for a thin sheet so I wouldn’t feel choked as I slept. 

“Sleep, Philip, sleep! Tomorrow is the first day of your new life as a man who can help himself!” I muttered at myself angrily. This was hardly the time to have fits of anxiety. I would sleep, and I would wake, and I would make Edmond bless the day he chose to hire me.

***

“...Philip? Philip!”

I jumped where I sat, my writing stylus and pen clattering to the floor. “So sorry! Momentary lapse of attention, Edmond, I swear I’m with you,” I stopped for air, fumbling for my fallen utensils before quickly restoring myself to a dignified seat. “You were saying?”

Edmond sighed. “Are you quite sure you wish to start today, Philip? I admire how well you’ve maintain your composure since-- _well_ , but do you need more time? Perhaps another few days to--”

“No, no! I’m feeling more than up to it, Edmond! You have been most kind, and it’s high time that I started to return some of that debt.” I had meant to sound firm, but instead I babbled. 

Edmond regarded me, expression unreadable. _Look, he regrets hiring you already._ I sat up straighter in my seat. “Truly, Edmond. I feel right as rain, and I won’t allow my attention to wander again. Please do continue.”

The rest of the day wasn’t much better. I was tired and nervous and it made me fumble where I wished to be steady and muddled and confused where I should’ve understood quickly. Poor Edmond did his best to ignore my ineffectiveness, but it soon came to the point where it pained me too much to see him keep trying.

I put my stylus down next to the large tomes he was instructing me to fill. The past few moments had been filled with self recrimination and I hadn’t heard a word he was saying. “I’m so sorry Edmond, but I think I’m useless at this.” _And now you’re going to give up, eh? Just like you did at the wedding, you useless sod._ “I think it’s best if I just…” I made to step away but he put a hand on my shoulder and stilled me.

“You’ve been through an ordeal, Philip. Take another day or so to settle in and you’ll be right as rain. No rush, okay?”

“Right… of course.” _He’s probably already selected your replacement._ “I’ll just get out of your way then…”

Edmond’s mouth opened to protest but he closed it again and gave me a kind smile. “I’ll be home as soon as I am done work, Philip.” He said, clapping me lightly on the shoulder. “And Oliver is coming to dinner--he’d love to see you.”

“Of course,” I murmured, backing away. _Another witness to how pathetic I had become, how lovely._ I stopped outside Edmond’s new warehouse and looked around blankly. I had nowhere to go. I was hardly in a state to visit Margaret and Billy at the Chilton-Hawthorns, I couldn’t show my face in front of Oliver, I was forbidden to go to my parent’s house, and even if Henry wasn’t on the continent I would be far too ashamed to show my face in front of him. Which left--

“Philip, lad, is that you?” I heard Philip Chilton behind me and turned, forcing my face into a semblance of collectedness.

He looked healthy and fulfilled, dressed in comfortable workman’s clothes, a small paper-wrapped package under one arm.

“Oh lad, you don’t look well.” He hastened toward me but I held a hand out to stop him.

“I am just fine, Philip, truly. No need to worry over me again.”

His eyes crinkled. “Oh, you are many things--an absolutely rubbish liar, for one. But _fine_? No, lad, I don’t think so.”

“I don’t want to be a burden--”

“Then don’t, Philip. Tell old Chilton what’s wrong so I don’t spend my day worrying over you.” He took my arm and walked me away to a small bit of wall behind the company. It was empty and the sun was beginning to set.

I sat there quietly next to him. My skin felt too tight and underneath it buzzed a thousand bees of shame.

“You’ve made it to the other side of things, lad. But I think--and if I’m wrong, have a go at me--but I think that in here,” He gently poked my temple, “and here,” His hand rubbed lightly at my sternum, “You’re still standing frozen at that altar next to that pox-ridden John Farthingham.”

I swallowed heavily. “...You’re right.”

“Why are you still there, lad?”

“I just… I should’ve done more. Been better, fought harder.”

“Was there anything more you could’ve done?” Philip prodded gently.

“After the ordeal with Jack, I was put under lock and key for the three days until the wedding, Philip. I was surrounded by Farthingham’s people--their servants on me at all hours, even as I slept, men posted outside the window… I couldn’t reach anyone--not a soul. But I should’ve thought of something--anything, really, I should’ve...”

“What?”

“I… I could’ve… jumped.”

“...Philip?” Philip Chilton's eyebrows were raised.

“I could’ve jumped out of my window. The guards could’ve stopped me climbing, but even they wouldn’t have been able to stop me in time if I jumped. I wouldn’t have survived the fall, but then at least I could’ve--I would’ve been free by my own hands!” 

“To what end and purpose, Philip?!” Philip sounded enraged at the suggestion. “Just to end it all in one fell swoop! What a horrible waste that would’ve been. And we would have missed you terribly, lad.” His eyes were bright and wet and I felt mine itch and burn, but they remained dry. “No, better you stayed alive until the last possible moment, and if you ended up married to that lout Farthingham, we’d have found a way to get you out, even if that Henry of yours and his magical clerk hadn’t found out about Farthingham’s troubles in time.”

“What could you possibly have done to help me?!”

“I’d kill him if I had to, Philip, and make no mistake.” Philip Chilton's gaze was grave but steady. “And I’m sure I’d have quite a few helpers at that.”

“I couldn’t let you do that!” I stared at him horrified, but he only raised an eyebrow and nodded. “No! No, I don’t need you to clean up my messes, though I am humbled you would make such a sacrificial offer. I should’ve done more _myself_ ! But I just stood there, like a thrice-damned statue and... and _gave up_.” That last part was barely a whisper, I was so ashamed.

Philip looked at me, but his eyes held no censure. I gathered my resolve and continued. “I just stood there. In that moment, my very last chance, and I decided that losing with dignity would be the way of the day. _Dignity_ , Philip! You know as well as I that dignity and I are never found together anyway, not once; that dignity had no place in that sham of a wedding, and yet, when all was lost, _that_ is what I reached for! _A stiff upper lip!_ It’s…! It’s what my father would’ve done!” My throat felt so tight and I gasped for air. “And in the end, I would’ve ended up married to John Farthingham forever taken away from all of you, slave to that _bastard_ ... Oh but yes, _dignity was the way to go, oh very good thinking, Philip.”_ I snorted. “Father and Mother would be so proud if they knew, Philip. Maybe they’d even… Maybe then they wouldn’t--” I couldn’t say it.

“What, lad?”

“Wouldn’t… L--Leave me behi--” My voice broke. My body caved in on itself as the damn finally broke and my chest heaved with sobs. 

“Oh Philip.” Philip Chilton’s hand was on my back, but I shrugged it off.

“ _Why do I care?!_ They were so determined to ruin me for their own good--twice! I begged them! Nothing except contempt, and yet--I still care, damn it all! Why!? _Why am I so weak!?_ ” I sobbed into my hands now, the words falling out garbled. I didn’t deserve pity, nor compassion. In the final moment, I had let myself down. “It’s no wonder everyone feels like they must always be helping me, Philip. Oh, how you all must tire of me--”

“That’s quite enough of that, Philip.” Philip’s voice rang out sharp and I turned to him, shocked. His face was stern. “Now you listen to me well.”

I could only nod dumbly.

“It’s hard for anyone in a tough spot to ask for help. And I spent the last ten years of my life begging in the streets so I know a thing or two about tough spots and how they mess with your mind and your strength. You were after three days cut off from your friends--and your last meeting with them was when you gave up your scheme to go _kill a man_ . You can hardly hope to have a clear head in such a rotten mess.” His hand returned to my back, rubbing slowly up and down and I shrank against his side, craving the comfort. “You keep asking yourself why at the wedding you couldn’t just say _no._ But I think there’s a bigger question there that you’ve not thought of: Sure you keep wondering why you didn’t say it then, but you never wonder why you didn’t ever say it before then too? When your parents first set you up, maybe, or any time between your engagement and the wedding.”

I turned to him, aghast. _He’s right; Why hadn’t I?_

He gave me a small, sad smile. “Philip, you were raised by parents who only ever told you you were worth something when you did something to make them happy. They only looked after you when it also looked after them, and you were in for a chill breeze and swift punishment if you ever spoke wrong or made them unhappy.”

I nodded dumbly.

“I know this, because when they matched you up with that bastard Farthingham you cooked up all sorts of schemes to break your engagement, except the most obvious: Just telling them no. You learned to care for yourself in secret, Philip; to stretch their rules, run around them, but you didn’t ever consider just breaking them.”

I could only stare at him, but he took it as the acquiescence that it was.

“How did you feel when you stood across from John Farthingham, Philip?”

I breathed in, out. “As though my last route of escape were lost to me forever. That all I had left was to obey with dignity.”

“You see?” Philip’s squeezed my shoulder. “Never even crossed your mind.”

He was right. I looked up at him. “Am I broken?”

He chuckled, his face creased with care. “No, my lad, you are simply unused to being around people you can just say your wishes to who will love you either way.”

I nodded slowly.

“But that rot’s leaving for the continent with your parents.” His voice was firm. “Now, you have me and all the Chilton-Hawthorns--and you brought that lot on yourself lad, so don’t think you’ll shake us off so quickly. And I think Margaret and Billy would try and hug you to death if they ever thought you couldn’t turn to them when you needed, and that’s your fault too.” He smiled at me. “There is nothing you could do that would make you wrong in their eyes, or mine, my lad. And you’ve got a solid friendship on offer from that nice young Marquis, and Lord Ray respects you a good deal and is chuffed that you’re staying at his and agreed to work with him.” Philip smiled at me and I felt my eyes wet again. “You’re not like your parents, Philip. And you’re not a friendless lad surrounded only by people who want to use you to help themselves. You have friends now, Philip Mallory, that you can say no to all you damn well please.”

My eyes filled again and I looked at the ground.

“And more importantly--” Philip Chilton lifted my chin so I was looking him in his steely eyes. “They are also the sort who are warmed through when you ask them for help, not annoyed. We are happy to be there for you when we can because we love and respect you, Philip. So the next time you need help, you will ask. I want no more of this fancy nob bosh about ‘going it alone with dignity.’ And the next time someone helps you, you won’t waste your time feeling ashamed or tallying some imaginary debt, lad. Instead, you will smile and say thank you and look forward to when you can show up for them too. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes.” My voice was a whisper. I wished then more than ever before that I’d had a father like Philip Chilton growing up. “You… Your family is so very lucky to have you, Philip Chilton.”

He winked and smiled and his eyes all but vanished behind the creases. “Indeed you are, my lad.”

I threw my arms around him then, pouring all my grief over my past, my hope for my future and gratitude, the sheer waves of gratitude that overwhelmed me like a sea shaken by a storm. For Philip Chilton who was quickly becoming the father I’d never had. For Edmond, and Oliver and Henry who hadn’t given up on me even at the last minute. For Margaret and Billy and all the Chilton-Hawthorns who reminded me that I wasn’t worthless--for helping me prove to myself I still had it in me to care for others.

“There, there lad.” Philip’s grip was strong, thin arms rocking me back and forth as I calmed.

“I have to say thank you to all of them, Philip!” I sniffled like a child. “I owe them everything!”

“Don’t go giving away all the credit now, lad, you fought like a right dog, many more times than anyone shoulda had to.” He pulled me to my feet. “Now I’d offer you a bed at mine, but we’re up to the rafters with two extra people who would love to wring your hand and thank you too when you’re feeling up to it, my lad.”

I nodded and dusted myself off. I felt new and clean and ready for anything. But first I desperately needed to sleep. 

“I’ll walk you to Lord Ray’s place then. He and the marquis are no doubt waiting there for you with supper going cold.” Philip chuckled. “Knowing that kindly lad, he’ll have a cuppa with half the front garden in it waiting for ya too.”

***

“...One more messenger for the warehouse, Philip Chilton! I told them they should speak to you.” I turned the thick pages of the shipping manifesto and dipped my quill in the spattered pot in the corner of my desk to keep writing. As promised to Edmond, I’d returned the next day, well rested and truly ready to put my best foot forward. Edmond had given me a quick summation tour to review the details from yesterday before an urgent matter pulled him away he’d handed me off to Philip Chilton. I was sent right to work taking stock and organizing records on the large book I vaguely remembered from the previous day. With a clear head, his instructions made sense. This was arithmetic, figures, writing and accounting, all subjects I had studied in school. There was no doubt I could complete these tasks well.

A dry chuckle sounded behind me. “Philip, my lad, everyone here calls me Chilton. You feel free to do it too.” 

I turned. Philip Chilton stood with two other men, directing them on where to haul the latest arrival of crates. “Do you wish to be called Chilton, Philip?”

He chuckled again, eyes twinkling. “I’m a man of business, Philip, and we men of business are called to by our last names all the time.” He winked. “You call me Chilton, and in exchange, I’ll call you Mallory.” He held out a hand to shake, as though we were meeting for the first time. I reached for it, unable to stop a grin. We Philips were men of business now, working side by side as we ought.

“Pleasure working with you, Chilton.” I gave Chilton’s hand a hearty shake.

“And you, Mallory,” Chilton returned, giving me one last pat on my shoulder before turning me away. “No dawdling now, a mountain of writing you’ve still got to finish and quickly! Mary is expecting you to dinner, and Margaret and Billy will drag you there themselves if you’re even a jot late, make no mistake.”

My heart leapt as I remembered. In all the hubbub of my recovery and my new post at _Ray Couriers & C. _, I had not yet seen Margaret and Billy. I craved to see them, hug them and verify with my own hands that they were truly okay. By now they must surely think I cared not at all for them. I turned back to the large tome and started writing briskly, stopping occasionally to dip my pen and only once to stop and marvel again at my new circumstances.

I was officially a member of Mother and Father’s detested hoi polloi. They had left for the continent and I had moved back to the house, after thanking Edmond profusely for letting me stay. It had been almost a week now since my disastrous first day and a routine was establishing itself quickly as the week progressed. I woke up at the crack of dawn, threw on one of my favorite old shirts that frayed at the seams and a pair of simple wool trousers. Then I ran to the warehouse where I was assigned assistant head secretary and worked until my wrists ached and my fingers were raw from writing. Last night I had stumbled home too exhausted even to yawn and passed out in my bed. 

I had never been happier.

Henry still had not returned from the continent and wasn’t due back for another week. And I was well overdue to visit his sister and nephew. I turned another page and immersed myself back in my writing.

I emerged from a focused state of sums and supply counts to Chilton shaking my shoulder. “There now, Mallory my lad, we’d best head out before supper goes cold and poor Billy gives up on ever seeing you again.” I turned to smile at him and rose, stretching out all my sore muscles from sitting so long in one attitude.

“Yesss,” my hip gave a rather satisfying pop, and I clapped my hands together. “I’ll just lock the books away and then I’m ready.” 

I soon joined him at the front of the building where we wished a distracted Edmond a good night and headed for the Chilton-Hawthorn home.

As we approached, I felt some trepidation. I had not seen Margaret or Billy since the attack. What would I say to them?

Chilton opened the front door and ushered me inside. It was lit with more candles than I remembered, and a fire roared in the hearth. The children all sat around a table, bowls filled with warm, fragrant food. My eyes caught on Billy, his back to me, sandwiched in between Eliza and David. He turned to say something to Eliza, and he was smiling. 

_Oh, thank God, he was smiling!_

I took a step forward toward him only to be stopped by the sound of someone clearing their throat sharply behind me. “Why, Philip Mallory, I’d all but given up hope of seeing you again.”

I turned, cheeks already stained in a blush. “Margaret!” She was sitting upright in a chair, working a bit of lace onto an extravagant dress that was draped on a dress form to her right. She moved gingerly, and I could see a white bandage peeking out of the collar of her dress. Her right leg was heavily bandaged as well and propped up on a stool before her. “I say, Margaret, do you ever stop working?”

She looked at me, eyes troubled. “Thank God it’s given me something to do except pace the floors, broken leg and all while I prayed for you.” She gestured me closer and I sat at her side, feeling very much like Billy when he’d been caught taking extra cookies from Mrs. Blethely. “What in heaven and hell were you thinking, giving up your freedom just so a journalist couldn’t get in the house?!” 

“Margaret, if word of you got around too soon, your futures would be utterly ruined.”

She tutted and reached out, grasping my shoulder in a firm grip. “Our lives were more than enough, Philip, we don’t need more than that.” I opened my mouth to explain but she shook her head. “Philip, you're worth more than some fancy titles and nice dresses, please tell me you realize that.”

“Yes, but--”

“No buts.” She sniffed. “Besides, the titles and grand return to society were always more Henry’s dreams than mine…” She trailed off, eyes widening and looked at me speculatively. I quickly looked away. “Philip?”

What had she seen? I chanced a glance at her and her eyes shone. Turning with difficulty, she placed both hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “I should have started with this: I don’t have words to thank you for what you did for us on that night.” A tear leaked from her eye, and all I wanted to do was grasp her in the gentlest hug, but she held me back. “Hell itself spat out my greatest nightmare, and just when I thought all hope was lost, you appeared out of nowhere and risked life and limb to make sure that swine didn’t take my son from me. I can never thank you enough.”

Now I was crying too. “Truly, Margaret, I only wish I had put the clues together sooner so you didn’t have to go through any of it.” 

She applied the slightest pressure on my back and that was all the prompting I needed to lean forward and hug her. “No matter, Philip.” Her eyes caught on something behind me and she chuckled. “Best brace yourself now--”

“UNCLE PHILIP!!” A small body threw itself at me from behind, and I heard Margaret grunt from the added pressure against her healing ribs. I quickly rose and pulled Billy from my back and into my arms. “Uncle Philip, Uncle Philip, you’re here!!” His smile, oh good God, his smile, it went from ear to ear. He reached up to hold my face in his small hands. “You came to visit! Uncle Edmond told me you’re working with Grandpa Philip at the company, and you aren’t getting married to that other man after all, and,” he wrestled himself from my arms and grabbed my hand, pulling me to the large wooden table where all the children sat, regarding me over their supper with big eyes. “These are all my new friends, Uncle Philip! There’s James and Eliza, they’re the oldest; and Jacob--he’s the same age as me!--and David, and Iola and Olivia--and they said not everyone can tell them apart, but I can because Olivia has a brown spot on her cheek right next to her eye, but they’re both very pretty, I had to make sure to tell them that!” He stopped for air, tugging me around the table to the children I had already met. “Oh! And this is Nancy and Simon! They weren’t born here but they’re part of the family now, like me!” He beamed with pride. 

“We already know Lord Mallory,” James cleared his throat and stood, straightening his small shoulders and offering to shake my hand like when we first met. “It’s a… a pleasure, Lord Mallory.” He intoned formally, his face serious and I smiled and reached for his hand again.

“The pleasure is mine, James Hawthorn.”

“Uncle Philip?” I turned back to Billy. “Since I call you Uncle Philip, and Grandpa Philip said I’m part of the family now, can they call you Uncle Philip too?”

He gestured round the table, where eight sets of round eyes watched me, waiting on my decision. “I think that’s a splendid idea, Billy. But only if they would like?” I looked up at the children, brow raised in invitation.

Eliza nodded sagely from across the table. “Uncle Philip.” She tasted the words on her tongue, then smiled at me. “Good to see you again, Uncle Philip.” 

“If we aren’t standing on ceremony, then you’ll call me Mary.” Came a voice from the stove. I looked up and Mary Hawthorn was watching me, a small smile on her face. “And don’t you even think of touching my dinner table until your hands are washed!”

I beamed at her. “Of course, Mary.” and hastened to the washstand, where Chilton had already finished washing his hands and face and offered me a new sliver of soap with a smile. I quickly washed and wedged myself into a spot at the crowded table, where dinner continued. At first the children didn't quite know what to do with me, but they soon warmed up and returned to their previous conversations as a bowl was placed before me and I turned a singular focus toward inhaling its contents. I sat back with a sigh once it was empty. “Thank you, Mary, that was scrumptious.”

Mary snorted. “I dare you to tell me a single ingredient in that lot, you ate so fast.”

“Thank all of us!” Simon called from across the table. “We all helped!”

“Then thank you all,” I amended, nodding around the table. They each beamed up at me in turn, collecting their own bowls to place in the washbasin.

Mary scooped water out of the kettle hanging over the fire and brewed tea, while the children took out toys, and James took out a beginner’s reader, clearly new, and began practicing, Billy at his side, helping him puzzle out the alphabet.

“‘K’ says Kkuh,” Billy told him carefully, and James repeated. It was a testament to both Billy’s generous nature and James’ focus that neither of them found the exercise a burden or an embarrassment. James was at least three years older, but he wanted to learn, and Billy was happy to teach. That was all the incentive they needed to collaborate.

Behind me, I heard Margaret sigh happily. “If I had known that I would be so blessed....” I turned to her. Her eyes rested on Billy, surrounded by the warm atmosphere of the Chilton-Hawthorn home. 

Next to her, Mary nodded, her care-lined face relaxing as she settled into a chair next to Philip Chilton, chipped cups of tea in hand. “You’ve raised him well, Margaret. He’s a testament to you.”

Margaret nodded gratefully, then turned her attention back to the stubborn bit of lace. We sat, tranquil for a few moments, drinking tea while the night grew darker. 

“Right then,” Mary stood and clapped her hands, “Wash up. It’s late and your beds are waiting!” 

I watched as, like a well oiled clock, James and Nancy washed the supper dishes while Eliza and Simon started helping the younger children put away the toys and change into nightshirts for bed. Billy even stepped in to help, returning dried dishes to the cupboard, proud of his place in the routine. It wasn’t long before they were sorted and ready to sleep.

Mary escorted them to the large room I had only gotten a glimpse of in my last visit. Gone were the threadbare pallets--now two sturdy wooden beds filled the space. The boys crawled into one and the girls the other, snuggling in. 

“Uncle Philip, can you tell us a story before bed?” Billy called, and the other children turned, looking at me hopefully.

“Now, children, your Uncle Philip’s had a long day--” Mary started, but I stopped her.

“I’d like to try, if that’s alright.” I cleared my throat and looked down at my hands. “But I can’t promise I’ll be much good at it.”

The children snuggled closer to each other in their shared beds, waiting. I walked into the room and sat down in a wooden chair between both beds. Mary smiled encouragingly at me and stepped out, keeping the door open a crack so the room wasn’t completely dark.

“Well, ah, let’s see…” I fumbled for a story. Something to share. “Once upon a time, there was… a man. Yes, a very noble man--in title, at least--and he lived with his parents in a large, grand house.”

“What was his name?” Asked Eliza.

“Yes of course! A name.” I fumbled. “Well, it was Phil--ah, _Philbert_. His name was Philbert. And his parents lo--” I stopped, swallowed, then started again. “Well, his parents decided that they would like to see him settled very badly. But Philbert wanted to marry for love. He saw life as the greatest of all adventures, one that is best shared with only the finest traveling companion. His parents didn’t understand, of course. They were very firm in their ways and so they picked a man for Philbert to marry without asking him. Philbert was very unhappy about that.” I paused.

“What happened next?” Simon’s voice popped up from his nesting spot between James and Billy.

“Well… The man his parents had chosen--we’ll call him Harry--was terribly stubborn. But Harry was also kind and caring and… he was a very special man.” I cleared my throat and quickly continued. “But, Philbert really wanted his freedom back, so he worked very hard and with Harry’s help, he earned it. And he was very happy.”

“I think that now that Philbert is free, he should marry Harry if he thinks he’s so special.” David spoke up sleepily. “Did they get married in the end?”

“No… no they didn’t.” I really was rubbish at telling good children’s stories. “Harry decided to marry someone else, a very amiable sort--”

“What’s aymeebull, Uncle Philip?” Billy interrupted. 

I smiled despite myself. “Amiable is when someone is very kind, Billy.”

He yawned. “Like you, Uncle Philip?”

 _Oh Billy._ “Thank you, Billy, that’s very sweet of you to say. I… Well, I work hard at it, when I remember to, but I’m hardly the most kind person I’ve ever--”

“You found Grandpa a job.” Nancy murmured. “And now we have toys to play with, Uncle Philip, and more food to eat, and Aunt Margaret sews all our clothing for us.” She was nearest to me and her small hand reached out and patted my arm. “I think that was very aymeebull.”

My heart seized in my chest and my eyes went watery. “Oh… Oh no, Nancy, sweetling, I owed your grandpa a great deal for what he did for me.” I sniffed quickly and swallowed. “It was only the least I could do to try and repay him. I’m so very happy it worked out.”

“No debts, remember, _Philbert_?” I startled as Chilton spoke through the door and he opened it. He winked at Nancy then turned to me. “We’ll have to work harder to break this stubborn lad out of his habits, eh?” He stepped forward and clapped me on the shoulder. “But that’s enough for tonight, lad. Mary’s put up another pot of tea and you lot need to sleep.” that last part directed to the room, where the children giggled and settled in. 

“Yes, right.” I rose. “Good night, everyone.” I hastened behind Chilton and back to the main room, squinting at the sudden light. Margaret and Mary were deep in discussion as Margaret fascened the last ribbon to the dress.

“There, that’s that.” She patted a pleat and sat back, sighing. “Oh, if only I wasn’t laid up like this, I could give it a whirl and make sure it fits.” She chuckled, quietly. “Oh to be able to walk around!”

I laughed and sat next to her, picking up a cup of tea. “I’m sure it will be beautiful, Margaret.” 

She and Mary laughed heartily and Mary piped in. “I’d love to help you, but Lord knows it has been a few years since my waist was small enough to fit such a thing.”

Margaret turned to her, eyes considering as she looked Mary up and down. “I think it’s time I made you a dress, Mary. It’s the least I could do after you put us up this last minute.”

“Oh no, absolutely not!” Mary shook her head vehemently. “I would never have use for such a fancy thing as all that, and besides, I’ve the children to look after, I could hardly--”

“I’ve not seen you in something fine since your wedding day,” Chilton spoke quietly, eyes warm. “I think you would look lovely, my dear.”

The peace of the moment was broken by a cry coming from the children’s room. Chilton, Mary and I rose as one as Billy screamed again. My heart cracked. _Oh no, not Billy too._ Margaret looked on from her chair, eyes wide with grief and frustration. “If this leg could just _walk--_ ”

“Now, Mary, I’ll go--”

“Wait.” Margaret stopped her with a hand on her arm. She turned to me, a question in her eyes. “Philip? You were there, he knows your voice. Can you…?”

“I’ll try.” I knew my eyes were wide, but I soldiered on toward the room. _Oh, please let me be helpful._ I tiptoed in. Poor Billy was crying out, and the children on either side of him sat away, eyes wide.

“We tried waking him once,” James fretted. “He just got more scared.”

“It’s okay,” I murmured. _It’s okay, Philip, just try._ Billy thrashed in his blankets, screaming. I tiptoed over to the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“No! Help!”

“Billy?”

His eyes flew open wide. “Uncle Philip!” His voice was hoarse with terror. I leaned down and he jumped into my arms. “Oh, Uncle Philip, you’re here, I thought you wouldn't come this time, and the bad man would take me away, but you’re here--” his voice broke and his body shook with sobs. 

“Oh Billy.” I held him as tight as I could. “I’m here, I’m here.”

“I’m so scared.” He cried. “Uncle Philip, I’m so scared. It’s just me and Mama, I can’t help her all by myself!”

“You’re not by yourself, Billy. The bad man is gone and you’re safe now.” _That’s right, Philip, the bad man is gone and you’re safe now._ I patted Billy’s back soothingly as I removed him from the room, the children looking on. “You’re safe and you have all of us now to help you look after your Mama: Grandpa Philip, and Aunt Mary and all your new friends. And me, Billy.” I arrived at Margaret’s chair and she smiled wanly at me as I transferred Billy to her arms. He held on tight and Margaret gripped him back, though I could tell it hurt her ribs to do so. I had to do something. “Billy, would you like a cup of tea?”

He shook his head, buried in Margaret’s neck. Mary and Chilton looked on sympathetically and I stood near the teapot, feeling helpless. _If only I had arrived sooner and spared him such horrible memories!_

But no, remonstration would not help now. Billy’s nightmares were haunting him and I wanted that vile man removed from his mind as soon as possible. The other children were all piled at the door, watching him with worried faces, some tearstained. This would not do, I determined, and my bedtime story skills were far too shabby to make it right. I looked around the room, desperate for an idea and my eyes lit on Margaret’s newly completed dress.

This might be an utter disaster, but…

“Margaret?”

She looked up at me wearily and I mustered up a weak smile. “I… I don’t suppose you still need help modeling your new creation, do you?”

Her eyebrows rose very high and she chuckled. “Philip, are you quite sure…?”

“Unless you think I’m too ugly to model such a thing.” I put on a face of deep mock offense and stamped across the room, nose in the air. Iola and Olivia giggled. I chanced a glance over my shoulder at Billy. He had looked up from Margaret’s shoulder and was watching me, tear-stained face curious.

I nodded firmly at Margaret. This wouldn't heal Billy’s fears, but it ought to distract him enough to remove Jack’s vile face from his mind so he could get a good night’s sleep.

“Well,” Margaret sighed, chuckling. “It’s a heavy dress and you’d have to be careful not to tear anything, but if you’re feeling up to it...”

“Children! Gather round! ” I announced grandly, sweeping my arms like a court herald. “Oft’ you have heard of the great skill with which the great Margaret Shawdun wields a thread and needle, but today, children! Today you shall see for yourselves why she is the best seamstress in the whole city--nay, _the whole country!”_ Now even James was laughing, and Billy’s tearstained face had cracked into a grin. I brandished my hand toward the dress. “Mary, if I could trouble you?”

“Do let’s give this a go!” Mary jumped to the task with enthusiasm. “James, Simon, put up the screen, your Uncle Philip will need his privacy.” The other children settled in the room proper while James and Simon quickly set to work. In moments I was ushered behind it and into Mary’s capable hands.

“I don’t think you understand what you’ve chosen to do here, Philip,” she laughed as she unbuttoned my shirt and laid it on the screen. I blushed. “Regular women’s clothes can be rough business, but this here is a full ball gown.”

“Too late now, right?” I shrugged, though I felt a bit of nerves. “The children are all waiting for me.” 

Mary’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she reached for the dress ties. “Best leave your trousers on, I think, they won’t make much of a difference and you’re red with embarrassment everywhere I can see already just from pulling off your shirt. Now duck down a squick.” I blushed still more, grateful to turn my eyes to the ground as she slid the layers on one by one, tying them into place. The underdress was first, then the petticoats, then the dress itself. Together, the layers were heavy as a dead mule.

"How do you fare, Philip?" Margaret's voice was slightly muffled from the screen.

"Uh.. just fi--" I choked as Mary tightened the stays on the dress. I was surrounded by straps and ribbons and buttons, waves of taffeta, lace and silk trimming. "...I might confess to being a bit overwhelmed."

Margaret chuckled. "You need an extra hand there, Mary?"

“Don’t even think of rising, Margaret dear. If I need a hand I’ll call Eliza.”

I heard Eliza giggle from behind the curtain.

"Er… By any chance, is Billy skilled in any of this?"

"I would make a mess, Uncle Philip!" Billy sounded downright excited. I straightened my spine and submitted to Mary’s ministrations with a smile. 

“There now, nearly sorted,” Mary huffed behind me, securing the last tie firmly as I struggled to breathe. She dusted her hands off and stepped away, back toward the rest of the room. “I say, what a grand creation this is--”

A knock sounded at the door. Billy whimpered and I startled. Mary stepped away completely and out of sight. 

_Who could it possibly be at this hour?_

“Mama…” Billy’s voice had regained its fear.

“It’s alright, Billy.” I heard Chilton rise and approach the door. “I’m sure it’s just a neighbor in need of something…” I heard the door swing open and then Billy gasped.

I collected my shirts in hand, ready to charge at the intruder, when--

“Uncle Henry!!” Billy shrieked in delight and I heard his shoes scamper across the floor. My heart dropped to my toes and I froze where I stood. I heard a familiar grunt as Billy connected with the man at the door and chanced a peak behind the screen.

 _Oh, dear God._ Henry crushed Billy to his broad chest, eyes closed and breathing deeply. He still wore dusty travel clothes and the beginnings of a beard lent a rakish look to his strong jaw. _He must have run here straight from his ship._

“Henry?” Margaret glanced my way then back at him her voice was filled with surprise and no small amount of amusement. “We didn’t expect you until next week!”

“I sailed home as soon as I heard!” Henry was all panic. His eyes took in Margaret and his face fell. “Oh, Margaret, I’m so sorry!” He ran to Margaret’s side, Billy still clinging to him, and kneeled in front of her to look at her injuries.

“I’ll be alright, Henry.” Margaret reached out her arms, and Henry fell into them. “Just a few bumps and bruises, he didn’t…” she stopped then recovered, and went on quickly. “I will heal in time, and I’m still able to work. We’ll be just fine, my dear.”

Henry’s eyes closed and he wrapped his arms around them both, breathing them in. “I left for the continent in such a hurry, and I should have hired a guard, or--something! Oh, it is so good to see you both alive!” He sighed deeply and Billy reached out to wipe away the tears that were falling down his cheeks. 

“Don’t cry, Uncle Henry, Mama told me she’s only wearing a lot of bandages so she can feel better.” He patted them both with his small hands, and my heart was full. 

I couldn’t stop smiling. I had done well in Henry’s absence. They would be okay and Henry’s dream would still be realized. 

“And don’t worry,” Billy continued, “Everything was okay in the end, we were rescued by Uncle Ph--”

“Uncle Edmond!” I shouted, then clapped a hand to my mouth and leapt back behind the screen. _Rats_.

There was a pause, then, “Philip?” _No!_ “You’re here as well?” I heard his steps come closer and panicked.

“Ah, it would seem so, yes.” I gasped. _Foolish, foolish!_ “But, ah... I will be remaining back here for very important reasons--” A large, strong hand pulled the screen firmly aside. 

Henry stood there, looking at me. Billy still sat in his arms, and his hat was slightly crooked. His deep blue eyes opened wide as they took me in, from my slightly mussed hair down to the skirts that brushed the floor.

His mouth dropped open, and he gaped, lost for words.

“Wow, Uncle Philip, you look grand!” Billy exclaimed in wonder, dropping from Henry’s arms to poke at Margaret’s creation.

“...Do I now?” I chuckled weakly. “I rather assumed I looked a bit overdressed.” The only way I could possibly cope with Henry’s presence was to pretend that he was, in fact, not there at all. I straightened my shoulders and brushed past him, taking Billy with me so the rest of the children could see. “Behold, children! As you can see, this dress is eating me alive, but I’m sure it will look wonderful on your client, Margaret.” I turned to her and clapped daintily with just the tips of my fingers. Henry still hadn’t said a word.

She nodded at me, a laugh trapped behind her eyes. “I believe you are correct, Philip. I daresay I am pleased with this work. It has been a labor of love for quite a few months now and I’m happy to see it complete.” She gestured me towards her chair and I approached, turning as she pulled and straightened, observing each angle critically. “You’ll forgive me for saying this as I know frills really aren’t to your tastes, but I’m compelled to agree with Billy: You look marvelous!”

“You don’t have to flatter me, Margaret.” I felt eyes burning into my back from behind and paid them no heed as one by one, the children approached, each oohing and ahhing in turn. 

“You aren’t a paying customer, Philip, I would gain nothing by lying to you--” Another knock sounded at the door, Billy yelped again and hid in my skirts as a man walked in, tipping his hat politely. 

“Here for Mr. Shawdun, if it pleases you... “ He bowed to the room at large and turned to Henry, who still looked as though someone had hit him over the head with a bat. “One last item for tonight, sir.”

Henry quickly returned to himself and walked hastily over to us. “I left quite a bit undone in my hurry to reach you. I’ll return as soon as I can.” He gave Margaret a kiss on the cheek and quickly followed his man out the door, closing it behind him. 

“That’s your Uncle Henry?” Eliza’s voice was breathy with wonder. “He’s so very handsome!”

Billy beamed. “My Uncle Henry is the most handsomest! And he was going to marry Uncle Philip, only--”

“Philip, why don’t you walk the room? I want to see how the dress moves and flows.” Margaret interrupted quickly, and I obliged with a relieved smile, depositing Billy in her arms and then walking from one end of the room to the other. The children’s eyes followed and Eliza sighed, hands clasped together. 

The door rattled in the wind and I watched Billy’s eyes jump to it, shrinking away from the children back into Margaret’s arms. 

It looked as though I would be wearing this for a while longer. I cleared my throat imperiously. “Margaret, this dress is meant for a ball, is it not?”

She nodded at me, brow raised in a question.

“Then I daresay we haven’t given it the thorough trying-on it needs.” I put on my most formal, serious face and walked solemnly over to Billy, where I did my clumsiest approximation of a curtsy. “My Lord William Shawdun, I would be honored if I could have this dance.”

James gasped and Billy’s eyes lit up and he jumped to his feet. “Yes!! I mean,” He lifted his chin and assumed his own pompous frown, clearing his throat. “I would be very honored, Mr. Sir Lord Philip.”

He held out both of his hands, and I took them, pulling him to the center of the floor where we turned circles around the room. He shrieked with laughter and Margaret started chuckling as well. Chilton and Mary started singing a song to match our pace and clapping their hands. 

I paused and turned to the rest of the room. “Well? It’s hardly a ball if we’re the only ones dancing!” I winked and posed with Billy, waiting.

The children did not need a second invitation. They stood and started pairing off, trying to be as formal as small children in nightshirts could manage. 

“May I have this dance, Lady Eliza?” Simon intoned grandly and Eliza giggled, taking his hand as they joined us, spinning drunkenly around the room.

“Maestro!” I signalled to Chilton, and he and Mary began singing and clapping again, choosing a fast-paced shanty about oyster shucking. Margaret clapped along, and the children and I danced. I just barely avoided tripping over the voluminous skirts and they didn’t bother to avoid tripping over their own feet. I made sure to rotate around the room, allowing Billy to dance with the other children and each of the children to dance with me. I swung the twins in my arms together while Eliza twirled my skirts in great big arcs to her heart’s content. David too, loved playing with all the fabrics together, rubbing the silks and chiffons between his fingers as we danced.

"I hope Mama’s customer can dance as well as you can, Mr. Sir Philip!" Billy exclaimed enthusiastically, and I turned to him, smiling. He was marching with purpose across the room, hand in hand with James, who wore a face of deep concentration at each step. "You must’ve had so much fun at Uncle Henry's big garden party. Did you go to the garden party?"

"I was there, yes. And it was even grander than you imagine. They had bushes shaped like lions and flowers in every color and a gargantuan hedge maze you could get lost in."

"Wow!" Billy’s eyes widened again, and I realized anew how isolated he and Margaret were. He had never been to his own grandparents’ Spring Fete or any of the social events they held, despite being Henry’s nephew. 

"What did the inside look like?" Eliza called from where was skipping around with Simon.

The door flew open again. “Everything else can be shelved for the night, I wanted to--” Henry walked in suddenly, and Billy ran at me again, screaming in terror.

Billy?” Henry froze, his eyes catching Billy who was regarding him with terror. Henry's face dropped, his eyes haunted. I could only imagine what his mind must be conjuring about Billy’s ordeal. And it wouldn’t do for either of them to dwell.

“Henry, what did the inside of your vast mansion look like during the Spring Fete?” I prompted him. “I seem to be foggy on the details…”

His eyes turned to me, and although he tried to hide it, I saw the pain there; the guilt and regret.

I slowly walked toward him, holding his eyes steadily. _Billy needs you, Henry._ "It was even more beautiful on the inside than the outside as _I_ recall. The house was decorated in royal blue ribbon, trimmed with flowers.” I gestured grandly with my arms, taking the children’s eyes away from Henry so he could take a moment to recover himself. “The grand staircase was reupholstered for the occasion and the food was delicious and piled high on all the tables. No one entered the ball without oohing and ahhing over every detail! And the ballroom!" The door rattled again behind me and I quickly reached for Billy's hands and pulled him to the center of the room, crouching to his height and gesturing grandly toward the kitchen. "Tall windows, from the ceiling to the floor, bedecked in the same royal blue! And so many colorful couples, swirling around the room!" 

His eyes were the size of dinner plates, fear held at bay from the wonder. “Wow! And Uncle Henry was with you, right?”

"I daresay he was! And your Uncle Henry was dressed in the same royal blue as the decorations. My mother's jaw dropped when she saw him!"

Billy turned to Henry and smiled, imagining. "Uncle Henry was in royal blue!! Was he handsome?"

I turned toward Henry. His face no longer looked haunted, but he wouldn’t look at any of us. I approached him slowly. "I daresay he was! Not all scruffy looking like he is now.” I pulled at a loose thread on his coat and dusted off his left shoulder like a nagging valet and the children giggled. “He’d shaved his beard, and his clothes were neatly cleaned and pressed, just like your Mama does it.”

"And did you also dance with him?" Simon asked.

I turned back round and kneeled so I was at the children’s height. “I did. But do you want to know a secret?” They all leaned forward and so did I, whispering. “He’s a far better dancer than I am, and that’s when I’m wearing _trousers_ .” I turned again while the children laughed at this. Henry’s eyes were still too empty, his forehead creased. _This will not do._ I cleared my throat. “Henry, why don’t you show Billy what a wonderful dancer you are?” I fanned myself with my hand exaggeratedly. “The poor thing had to put up with me trodding all over his toes the whole evening!”

Gently I pushed Billy toward Henry, who looked down at him. Billy looked back, a small smile on his face and hand offered, excited. “Uncle Henry, can I have this dance, please?”

Henry looked back up at me, eyes lost. I nodded at him with a small smile. _He’s alive and well, Henry, the rest will sort itself out with time. Hold him and see for yourself._ Henry’s eyes warmed and he took Billy’s hand, pulling him up and into his arms. 

“You will learn to waltz with panache, Billy.” Henry raised his nose hautilly in the air. “That ruffian behind you can barely tell his right foot from his left foot!”

Billy exploded into giggles and I reached out to Nancy, pulling her into a dance as well. The other children soon followed our example and partnered off again. Margaret, Mary and Philip picked up their song while the children did their best impressions of posh people at a ball. This amounted largely to them exclaiming as loudly and pompously as they were able before dissolving into giggles. 

“I say, madam, but you have at least seven left feet!”

“Good sir, your pajamas are terribly out of fashion!”

Henry and I danced with each child in the room, following their example and proclaiming about everything, from the style of dance (“I say, but you waltz like a swan!”) to the room around us (“That wooden washbasin is simply the cutting edge, I must _have_ it for my personal toilet!”) much to their immense amusement. When all the children had been danced with, Henry didn’t hesitate to offer his hand to Mary and I to Philip Chilton, who laughed heartily and let me lead him in an aggressive march around the room with much sharp head turning and kicking feet. The children sat back and took over the singing, clapping their hands enthusiastically.

“That’s about enough for me, lad. It’s been a long day and my body’s not as young as the rest of me.” Philip pulled me into a warm hug before releasing me.

I watched him return to his seat, still flushed with exertion and satisfaction. _Henry was smiling again._

“Uncle Henry!” Eliza piped up from where she sat on the arm of Margaret’s chair, one hand in Margaret’s rich, chestnut curls. “Dance with Uncle Philip now!”

Billy’s eyes widened and he sat forward. “Like at the _real_ ball!” His voice was full of wonder.

“Please do show us how it’s done between two folk who are _actually_ trained in this sort of thing.” Mary chuckled, looking between us. My face warmed and I dared not look at Henry. 

“Well, I--” I paused as the door rattled and Billy gasped, burrowing back into Margaret. Next to me I felt Henry tense, and I knew what his face looked like without even seeing it.

_I should think not._

My hands moved, taking hold of Henry’s large, warm ones. I dropped into a deep bow, squeezing his hands lightly as I looked up at him. “Might I have this dance, Mr. Uncle Henry Shawdun?”

Henry’s eyes turned to me and he smiled. He moved one of our clasped hands to his shoulder, firming my grip there, before his own hand circled my waist. The places where he held me erupted with sensation and I was sure my face began to glow the brightest red.

“I would be honored, Mr. Sir Philip.” He intoned solemnly, turning for just a moment to wink at Billy. Billy gasped in delight, and I couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on my own face. 

“Maestro?” I called out. Mary stood and started to sing, a haunting song about a lonely bird in a deep beautiful voice with a slight rasp.

As though we had rehearsed it only yesterday, we fell into step. Henry stepped out, whirling me about the room skillfully. We had not danced together since before our engagement was annulled and so much had changed since then. I couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled out of me as I thought of the most obvious change--noting the voluminous dress keeping him at arm’s length.

“What?” He asked. 

“In any scenario I imagined seeing you when you returned from the continent, I never could have predicted this dress,” My foot slipped on one of the petticoats as I spoke and Henry strengthened his grip, pulling me against him for support. 

“Nor I, to be sure,” He joined me in laughter as his eyes regarded mine, bright. "I know it has far too many frills for your tastes, Philip, but I’m compelled to agree with my sister that you are most handsome in it."

I snorted. “No need to be polite with me Henry, I know I look like a cake garnished with the entire kitchen cupboard.”

He opened his mouth to say something and I interrupted him. “But that is neither here nor there.” We reached one end of the room and turned, still dancing. I took a deep breath. “Henry, please allow me to thank you from the bottom of my soul for finding that flaw and stopping my wedding to John Farthingham.” I slipped and nearly dropped us both. “Truly, I don’t know--”

“Don’t give it another thought.” Henry protested, shaking his head. He twirled me around him in a circle before returning me to his arms. I heard the children gasp. “I… How is Billy?”

Henry knew how Billy was. “You mustn’t blame yourself. You had no way of knowing such a thing would happen.” 

“I still should’ve prepared for it! I should’ve never left my guard down.” Henry’s grip on me tightened before he caught himself. “Sorry, I--”

“Think nothing of it.” I reassured, giving his hand a light squeeze. “Billy went through a bad experience, but he is safe and well. And Jack is dead, Henry. He was stabbed through Mrs. Blethely’s window, and he’ll _never_ hurt Billy or Margaret again.”

“Stabbed through the window?” Henry’s eyes widened. “Edmond neglected to tell me that detail. Were you there?”

“Oh--no!” I swallowed, and focused on my skirts swirling over the floor. “The gossip papers were filled with details of it the next day though--if you want I can collect you some.”

“No need.” Henry sighed and his eyes closed for a moment before they opened again. “How are you enjoying your new life as a free and working man?”

“Oh it’s wonderful! There’s nothing quite like jumping into a project and working to the bone until it’s completed.” I chuckled. “I believe I have found the secret to your unflappable temper.”

Henry laughed and twirled me one last time before he stopped dancing. “I’m so happy for you, Philip.” I saw something in his eyes then, something I was desperate to understand, but he looked away and at Mary, who was finishing her song.

“...will never meet again, on the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond.” 

The children clapped, and I abruptly released Henry and turned, bowing grandly to the assembled room. 

Henry chuckled and walked over to where Billy stood, still transfixed. He crouched and put his hands on Billy’s shoulders. “Would you be my honored guest at the Spring Fete next year, Billy?”

“Oh!” Billy could not contain himself. “Yes yes yes, Uncle Henry!!”

“Henry--” Margaret’s tone held a warning.

“He will be there next year, Margaret.” Henry’s voice had a note of finality in it, a force that I hadn’t heard since he had first told me of her in the teashop. “You will both be there, upon my honor.”

Billy ran over to Margaret. “And you will have a beautiful dress and I can wear one of those suits like the one Edmond bought last month?”

Margaret smiled down at him, wariness mixed with hope. “Yes you can, my love.”

“And--” Billy turned back to Henry, “Our new family can all come, right Uncle Henry?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Henry nodded happily at the Chilton-Hawthorns. “Consider it the smallest, most inadequate token of my gratitude for taking care of Billy and Margaret while I was away.” He bowed sincerely and the children gasped in delight. Mary already looked stressed at the thought.

Billy jumped up and down, his excitement more than his little body could contain. “Mama, we’re going to the spring fete! And I’m going to eat all the sugar cookies I can find, and get lost in the hedges, and! And dance with Uncle Philip again!” He turned to me. “You’ll be there too, right?”

I froze. “Ahh, well, young Billy…” I no longer had a place there.

“You are invited, of course.” I turned toward Henry’s voice. His grin was affable and friendly. “No matter the circumstances I would be honored if you would attend, Philip. With a guest of your choice, of course.” He quickly amended.

“Thank you, Henry. I would be honored.” My stomach turned, but I ignored it. “And on that note, Mary, if you’ve got a moment…” I gestured at the waves of fabric around me.

“Right then.” Mary approached me, a considering look in her eyes. “Although, now that we have another male here, perhaps you would be more comfortable if he helped you--”

“Oh good God, no!” Too loud, too vehement. My face radiated red, and my eyes sought out Henry of their own accord before I quickly disciplined them back to Mary. “That is, it would hardly be appropriate to--well but that is no matter anymore, but still I… I don’t know if he’s skilled in this particular--”

“I think Philip would be far more comfortable with your able assistance, Mary.” Henry supplied. He swung Billy into his arms. “In the meantime, might you show me how a man might make himself a cup of tea in this residence?” Billy giggled and pointed to the kitchen. My eyes followed him as Mary ushered me back behind the screen.

We might still be good friends, Henry and I. He had found his happiness. Oliver was a gentleman of the finest fettle, kind and generous. Henry would live out his days with his family by his side, safe and secure in their new titles and fortunes and a companion who would take care of them all. Henry need never know how my heart raced when he held me, how my eyes sought him out uncontrollably when he was near, how his eyes haunted me. I would soon purge myself of this foolishness and we would become polite strangers to each other soon enough. 

Mary removed the last layers from me and handed me my shirt. “I’d best put the children to sleep.” She patted me on the shoulder. “And you’d best speak your mind to _Harry_ before it’s too late.”

“His name is Hen--” I stopped. _Oh, how humiliating._ “Right.” I mumbled and slowly slipped on my shirt, doing up the buttons. On the other side of the screen, Mary shepherded the children back to their beds and they went, calling out good nights. If Mary, who didn’t yet know me well, could see through me so easily, what on earth must Chilton think? Or Margaret?

Or Henry himself? I flushed as I remembered our dance--I’d stared into his eyes for far too long. It was a mistake I would not repeat. I took a deep breath and recentered myself, straightening my shirt. I would be disinterested. We would soon be nothing more than polite acquaintances. My mind made up, I stepped out from behind the curtain.

Henry crushed Billy to him again and Billy snuggled against his broad chest, eyes closed, a smile on his face. “Good night my lad.” Henry whispered, his eyes taking Billy in, and I clapped my hands to my mouth. My eyes darted away, landing on both Mary and Margaret who were watching me, small smiles on their faces.

I glared at them and cleared my throat. “I think I’d best be off then. Thank you for the delicious supper and wonderful company.” I bowed shortly and hastened past Henry to the door.

“I believe a much nicer farewell is due to me before you depart, Philip.” Margaret’s voice was equal parts reprimand and amusement and I stopped, sighed, and turned around.

“Of course. My apologies.” I walked past Henry once more, head down, and went to Margaret. I reached down and gave her a gentle hug. “Have a good night, Margret.” I made to leave, but her hands held me fast. She held my gaze, then her eyes looked at Henry and then back at me. “Good night, Margaret,” I responded more firmly, and she sighed, releasing me.

“I’d best head out myself.” Henry remarked, releasing Billy and adjusting his hat on his head. I hastened to Chilton as Henry took my place by Margaret and gave her a hug. “I still need to visit Edmond and wring his hand in thanks for keeping you both safe while I was away.”

I was glad my back was to Henry as he spoke, giving me a moment to release the tension in my shoulders and school my face into a neutral expression. I offered Chilton a firm handshake and then another one to Mary, but she snorted and pulled me into a warm hug. “You take care of yourself, Philip,” she murmured.

I nodded and made for the door.

“Uncle Philip!” Rustling behind me and Billy came up and pulled at my arm. I turned to wish him goodnight, but he shook his head urgently and pulled at my arm still more, jerking his chin rather unsubtly at Henry, who regarded him with curiosity. “Over here,” Billy dragged me into the children’s room and closed the door behind him. He tugged at me until I crouched down to his height and looked at him. “I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to tell Uncle Henry about it before and I wanted to tell you before you left so I brought you here so I’m telling you secretly,” he whispered. He swallowed and then raised large liquid eyes to mine. “Thank you for saving me from the bad man.” He fell against my chest, wrapping his thin arms around my neck. “I couldn’t help Mama all by myself, and I was so scared. I prayed for God to please send my uncle to help make us safe again, but Uncle Henry was traveling and God didn’t have an extra boat so--so he sent you, Uncle Philip.” I clutched him to me, blinking rapidly to keep myself from crying again. 

“It was my pleasure, Billy.” I spoke as soon as I had collected myself enough and pulled away. “And Billy?”

“Hmm?”

“I will always be there to keep you safe if your Uncle Henry isn’t able to.” I pulled away and looked into Billy’s eyes. “Always, okay?”

He nodded solemnly. “Okay, Uncle Philip.” 

“May I come in now?” Henry called from behind the door and I startled. Billy giggled and patted me on the head with a smile before he scampered to his bed and snuggled in between James and Simon.

“No need, I’m coming out,” I sighed, standing slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was simultaneously so hard and SO FUN to write! I knew what I wanted there, but actually giving birth to the words that made it happen was really difficult! 
> 
> What are your thoughts! Share all, hold back none! ❤️


	8. A New Venture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philip encounters a new learning curve as Ray Couriers &C take on a new project

I arrived at work the next day feeling lighter. I presumed it had to do with finally confirming to myself that Margaret and Billy were truly safe and on the mend. I had had a hard time falling asleep; my dance with Henry played in my head though I desperately worked to banish it, and when at last I slept I dreamt again. But it was no good to dwell in the light of day--best to leave such wanderings to my imagination.

I dusted off my desk and set up my pen and began sharpening fresh quills. Once work was complete I would turn myself to the task of finding better solutions to helping Billy with his nightmares. While I had chased away the onslaught last night with Henry’s help, it was hardly a permanent solution and I wasn’t fond enough of dresses and faff to try more of the same.

I headed for Edmond’s office and the locked storage cupboard that contained the record books. Raised voices inside made me pause. Was Edmond okay?

“...and if you will not act upon it, I will be forced to take drastic steps, Henry.”

Henry was inside with him? I hastened closer to the door, though my conscience bade me not to.

“I will not.” Henry’s voice was at its most firm and stubborn. I knew instantly exactly the picture he made in Edmond’s office: Jaw set, arms crossed over his broad chest and legs planted slightly apart, eyes burning. “And that is final.”

“You can’t make me do this, Henry.”

“ _ You swore.”  _ Henry sounded frustrated and… worried?

“I did, and I don’t wish to betray you. But Henry, you can’t imagine that--”

“I have made up my mind and no finagling on your behalf is going to--”

“ _ HENRY _ !” 

I jumped at the aggravated shout from Edmond and my shoulder bumped into the door.

_ Oh fiddlesticks. _ I quickly knocked and tried to paste on my most innocent face as I pushed the door of Edmond’s office open.

“Good morning, Edmond. Oh, Henry! What a surprise…” I knew I was blushing. For some reason I didn’t quite feel up to meeting Henry’s eyes this morning, and so I breezed past him to the locked cupboard. “Discussing business, are we?”

“Edmond will be helping me with a new venture of mine.” Henry’s voice fought to remain even, I could hear it even though I dared not face him. 

“Delightful, I’m sure.” I murmured blankly as I pulled out the necessary books and fumbled with the lock. “I’m sure news of it will hit my books soon enough.”

“Yes, Henry, I imagine they will.” Edmond’s tone was laced with meaning I could not decipher.

“And I am equally certain they won’t, Edmond.” Henry’s voice was stone and I couldn’t help but turn to him. He looked exactly as I imagined, only… 

He turned to me and his eyes blazed fiercely with something I couldn’t name before the fires in his eyes banked and he offered me a blank smile.

Something was deeply worrying him.

Henry nodded briefly at us both in farewell and walked out, his gait filled with purpose, his shoulders tense. Even frustrated, he was so very strong. If only there was a way to take some of his burden...

“You are a free man now, Philip. If you truly wish to marry for love, then I might suggest you let your heart follow the man that yours eyes can’t turn away from?”

I jerked my head away and back to Edmond. “I--I don’t, I wasn’t--what are you--”

“Take it from someone who lost his chance, Philip.” Edmond’s voice was lower than I’d ever heard it and he did not look at me. “There are a great many injuries in the world, but regret is a wound even time will not heal.”

I would not have this discussion. It was too soon, too new. What I felt was so fledgling, a tiny flame that I dared not allow a breeze or fuel near lest it grow out of control. 

I cleared my throat. “Why was Henry here, Edmond?” I asked. 

Edmond sighed, agitated. “Business news from the continent. Henry is beginning a new venture with his father’s blessing and would like to collaborate with Ray Couriers & C. in this bold new direction. Farthingham Enterprises’ main trade was shipping sugar cane from the new world as well as the slaves to grow it. But they have ceased all activity and that has caused rather an unfortunate hike in sugar prices. We are hoping to end that trend as well as dependency on ‘blood sugar’ to begin with. To that end, Henry has turned his eye toward domestic sugar production here from an odd variety of  _ sugar beet _ that could be grown locally, processed just a few miles away and then shipped all over the world at a  _ far _ cheaper price.”

I didn’t know what to make of such a plan. “...beets?”

Edmond chuckled at my expression, though his laugh was missing its usual ease. “My thoughts exactly, but apparently it works a treat. It’s all the rage on the continent.”

“And what role will we be playing in all this?”

Edmond turned away. “Ray Couriers & C. will be the prospect’s headquarters here in the city. For now we are primarily focused on keeping in contact with a second business partner of Shawdun on the continent who will be handling production and industry on that end.” He handed me a thick stack of papers. “These will all need going through to assess all the assets of the new business partner and see how viable the partnership would be with Shawdun Shipping and where all three of our companies could stand to benefit each other.”

I nodded. “Right then.” I placed the stack of documents on top of my record books and turned to depart.

“Philip?”

I looked back toward him. “Yes?”

“Do make sure you read everything extra carefully, would you? I would hate for a small administrative error to ruin this new venture.” He winked at me with a smile.

I smiled back. We certainly didn’t want that. “Yes of course.”

***

The whole day and all of the next were a blur of tedium as I went through the new documents. The third company in the venture appeared to be quite new, much like Edmond’s and was called ACE Co.. However, unlike Ray Couriers, I had yet to be particularly impressed with ACE Co.’s business presentation. Their letterhead was handwritten, not printed, and the leadership did not appear to have assigned themselves proper titles yet, instead all working under the banner of “Board of Directors.” Some of the names I recognized vaguely from social events in the city, but most were foreign to me, no doubt living and working on the continent.

They seemed uncertain about the numbers of their stock and I kept having to turn back and forward, scratching through my own assessments as I corrected and re-corrected my work. Whoever had initially plotted out these numbers had done so hastily and had not gone back to do any form of double checking, leading to miriad careless mistakes.

“Edmond, this new company seems shoddy at best,” I remarked to him once as he came by, asking after my progress. “Very slapdash and poorly constructed. Is Henry quite certain these are the people we want to partner with on the continent?”

“Oh yes,” Edmond replied with a droll smile. “Henry’s father insisted upon it after Henry came across them on his last trip.”

I shrugged and turned back to it.

It was well dark by the time I had made it to the end of the pile. Only three letters remained. My eyes blurred as I scanned the body text for the key contents. The company was happy with the new changes and had attached another letter stating so. They were happy to comply with any other new regulations brought their way, &c, &c. Signed, Jaques Fontaine, Board of Directors. Jaques had come up in a few places previously, one of the ACE Co.’s cornerstone administrators, no doubt.

I picked up the attached letter underneath and froze. Bile rose in my throat as I recognized the letterhead.  _ Farthingham Enterprises.  _ My vision went grey for a moment and I fought to breathe. Even seeing that name made my body seize and my head hurt. 

_ No, no time for that! That is all in the past! _ I forced myself to focus and scanned the rest of the attached letter. Perhaps it had been placed in this pile by accident? As I reached the end of the letter, I gasped. The letter was also signed by Jaques Fontaine, except his title was Director of Goods & Services.

Was ACE Co. merely a sham company to hide Farthingham Enterprises while they wormed their way into Henry’s new business venture? That would explain why this partner company appeared to have no legs. Was it just a shell? Was Farthingham trying to break into our new venture in hopes of improving their business? 

“Edmond!” I grabbed the letter and dashed to his office but it was empty. “Edmond, are you here?”

I ran past to the store rooms where a night guard sat sleepily watching over barrels of shipped goods. “Have you seen Edmond?”

He blinked at me slowly. “I’m afraid Mr. Ray was called away, Mr. Mallory, sir. He had an urgent errand to run for Shawdun, but he’ll be back in town by tomorrow morning.”

I hadn’t a moment to lose, though. “Thank you.”

I did not want to go. Every time I saw him it became harder to turn my eyes away. But such an infiltration ran the risk of sinking this entire business venture. I walked out to the streets and hailed the first cab I saw.

“Take me to the Shawdun residence, please.”

I ran up to the door, and knocked. A butler of all hours answered the door and looked at me disparagingly.

“I’m afraid all errand boys are expected to come in through the back.”

At once I remembered my current state--bedraggled, hair standing in all directions from combing through it endlessly while chewing on confusing numbers, my shirt greying and ragged, the cuffs stained with ink. I was hardly presentable.

I puffed out my chest self importantly and stood my ground. “Surely you recognize me? It is Sir Philip Mallory and I request an audience with Mr. Henry Shawdun post-haste! This is important.”

The butler sniffed. “I’m afraid Mr. Shawdun is currently entertaining another visitor. Perhaps you can return in the morning--”

“It’s urgent.”

“That’s what his current visitor said as well.” The butler sighed, clearly quite put upon. “I suppose you may enter if you wish to wait.”

“It’s no problem for me.”

I was quickly ushered to a small waiting room set with tea. “You may wait for Mr. Shawdun here.” The butler remarked, sparing one last disparaging look at my state of dress before he departed. 

I paced the room. Henry had to know--he would be horrified if he found out he was working with Shawdun by accident. Oh, the horror. And his father would no doubt disown him and then all would be lost…

Oh, this wouldn’t do at all! I stopped pacing and looked at the clock. There was no time to wait for him to take tea with another guest, he had to know.

I hastened out of the room and toward Henry’s office. I still remembered the layout of the mansion and soon arrived, raising my hand to knock.

“...deserve one last chance!” Oliver cried out.

“I have already told you I will not ask again, Oliver, and that is final. Nothing you can say will change my mind on the matter. He doesn’t need another burden, not after everything.” If I had thought Henry sounded firm when he spoke to Edmond today, his tone now was iron.

“Then… then I have no choice in the matter either, Henry. I agreed to marry you because I felt we were in the same boat, that we shared a similar circumstance and we were friendly enough that we could make this into a comfortable partnership. But if you will not try again, I will… I will break off my engagement with you.”

_ What?!? _

“You can’t!” I did not realize I had burst through the door and shouted at its occupants until it was already open, I was already inside, and my words echoed off the walls while Henry and Oliver both turned to me in shock.

“Philip, how long have you been standing there?” Henry’s eyes pinned me to where I stood.

“I…! Not long at all, I only just arrived and I--” My eyes held onto him but this was hardly the time. I yanked my gaze away from his and turned to Oliver. “Henry needs… Oliver you have to… You are so amiably matched, the two of you, please…”

I sounded half mad. No doubt my current state of dress didn’t help.

“Philip, this is a matter between Oliver and I,” Henry spoke quietly and I knew I tensed, knew I shivered, and I couldn’t turn to him. “Thank you for your input, but I think it would be best if you headed home for the night.”

I had to try again. His future had finally lined up for him to be happy. I couldn’t--wouldn’t… “Henry, whatever he’s asking for, just do it. I don’t know what it is, but Oliver is a reasonable man and I’m sure he wouldn’t ask for anything unfeasible…”

Oliver nodded with a small smile on his face. “Yes, Henry, I believe this is a reasonable request and you can fulfill it quite simply, I believe.” 

“I will not.” Henry’s voice rang with finality. Oliver sighed and gave up, straightening his coat as he turned toward me. His eyes sparkled as he took in my bedraggled appearance, but they held none of the censure of the butler. Instead they glowed with approval. “I see your new life is agreeing with you, my dear Philip. I’m afraid I must depart. Do me a favor and make sure our Henry goes to sleep at a reasonable hour? He’s been running himself into the ground with his business and it breaks my heart to see him sacrifice himself so.” Those last words he directed at Henry with a sharp and pointed look.

“Er… I think perhaps you are better suited to the task, Oliver, no doubt.” My mind conjured an image of Henry in a nightshirt. “I’m sure I couldn’t be half as useful to that end as you…” Unwittingly, my eyes caught Henry’s and in my mind, he removed his shirt and lay down to sleep, those burning sapphire eyes never leaving my face. “And… and, well, you are his fiance after all and I am just his business partner’s…” I lay still in a soft, deep feather bed, wrapped warmly in a set of strong arms… “and it’s only appropriate that--” My voice was high, my mouth dried completely and my words tapered and stopped. I felt the heat pulsing in my face and knew it must surely be red as a beet. I looked down and swallowed hard. “I think I ought to depart, Oliver,” my voice rasped and all I wanted was to be gone from this house before Henry  _ saw _ me. “Yes, I think I ought…” I tore my gaze away from Henry and my feet carried me away. 

Once I had departed the room I all but ran through the house and out the door, hailing a carriage to go home. It was only once I had arrived home and stripped for bed that I found the letters in my pocket and realized I had utterly forgotten to tell Henry about them. 

I pulled my nightshirt determinedly over my warm face and put myself to bed. Tomorrow I would speak with Edmond. That would be best.

I prayed he would listen to Oliver’s request, whatever it was. Then he would soon be married to him and could banish these hopeless thoughts for good.

***

“Edmond!” Edmond was already at the warehouse when I arrived, though I had departed extra early after a restless night of little sleep. “Edmond, I must speak with you, it’s urgent.” I slapped the letter onto his desk and he leaned forward to read them, eyebrow raising. “I believe that ACE Co. is only a shell being used by Farthingham Enterprises to cover up a scheme to infiltrate Henry’s newest venture. It all makes sense--the records you gave me are slapdash at best, all completed in a rush. Farthingham wants to get revenge on Henry for spotting the flaw in his company, I know it! We need to warn Henry, and put an end to this.”

“Hmmm,” Edmond’s regarded the letter casually. Did he not understand the urgency of the matter? “This letter should not have been with the documents I gave you… Have you spoken to Henry about this?”

“I… well….” I sputtered and my face reddened. “I went to tell him last night, but… Er, something came up.”

Edmond let the silence sit for another moment, regarding me with an eyebrow raised before he cleared his throat and continued. “Ahem, well, best not to tell him you found it, then.”

No issue there for me. “You’ll warn him then?”

“No need.” Edmond looked away from me and placed the letter in a desk drawer. “I’m sure Henry knows what he’s doing.”

What?! “But Edmond, this is Farthingham we’re talking about, they’re utter snakes--”

“Who’ve had their fangs removed, Philip. Henry himself told me that Frederick Farthingham was voted out of his own company by the other shareholders. They have nothing now, and are no longer a danger to us.”

“Then why are we working with a shell company that is clearly associated with Farthingham Enterprises?!” 

“I am not authorized to tell you at the moment, Philip. I’m sorry.”

“But--! What if this all goes wrong, and… Henry’s father refuses to work with Farthingham, Edmond, you don’t understand, Henry told me himself, if he gets disowned, his future--”

“The both of you! You drive me mad!” Edmond stood abruptly and slammed his hands down on his desk. “ _ His future this, his future that! _ It’s enough to drive a man crazy!” 

“I… I’m sorry.”

Edmond sighed. “No, no, it’s… Oh, Philip. Listen.” He sat back down wearily and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t tell you, but I also realize this will keep bothering you until you get to the bottom of it. Now mind you,” He raised a hand before I could speak, “As I said before, I am sworn not to tell you about any of it. However,” He placed a card on the desk between us. _Doyce_ _Stocks, Bonds &c_. “This is a friend of mine, a respected stock trader. He might be able to help you.”

Doyce Stocks, Bonds &c. was run by an older man named Charles Doyce. He seemed perpetually harried and was quite uninterested in listening to the ragged former nobility who came to pester him for questions at all until I mentioned Edmond’s name. 

“Edmond Ray? Oh, you should have mentioned, my boy.” His face didn’t soften, but his tone did. “Keen lad, that one, oddly sharp for a nob, if you don’t mind me saying. I helped him start his business from scratch with Shawdun’s help, he was awfully determined, and now see him--” He caught himself mid-sentence and his eyes returned to me. “Ah, but no matter. What brings you here today, young Mallory?”

“Actually, I’m here because of Shawdun myself.” He nodded and gestured me to his desk where I sat. “Do you know anything about ACE Co.?” 

His eyebrow raised and he shuffled in his drawer for some papers. “ACE Co.? Ah yes, Alexander’s Choice Enterprise Company. Hmm… They are a new venture, technically.”

“Technically?”

“Well you see, lad, there was an administrative coup in Farthingham Enterprises a few weeks back. The new man running the show insisted on changing everything about the company, including the name. Now instead of running slaves and blood sugar from the colonies they are moving toward domestic sugar production with a focus on international shipping. The venture is likely to earn piles of money if it works, which is delightful for me now that I’ve started handling their stock.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware of the administrative error that led to Farthingham’s departure from the company.”

“Administrative error?” Doyce’s eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about that. Are you certain?”

“No matter. But what do you know about Shawdun Shipping’s collaboration with Farthingham’s new company on this new venture--I have it on good knowledge that Shawdun would have nothing to do with Farthingham in the past. Do they realize who they have allied themselves with?”

“Do they realize…?” Doyce’s eyes bugged out of his face and he burst into laughter. “Don’t be silly, lad! Have nothing to do with it, my hat! Shawdun Shipping  _ owns  _ the controlling stock in Farthingham now--well,  _ ACE Co. _ . Rumor has it they were the ones who engineered the coup, getting rid of Farthingham and essentially ruining him. Shawdun Shipping almost ruined themselves in the process, it costs them a preposterous amount of money. Young Shawdun is lucky he engineered this new sugar venture or I suspect Old Shawdun would have had his son’s guts for garters! Was a near thing too, and I had to assure him I was blameless in the affair lest he dance on my grave when their stocks dipped perilously--I’ll have you know I advised heavily against it at the time, but young Shawdun wouldn’t listen and went through with it anyway. This new venture does have a good chance though--a stroke of brilliance, the whole affair, and stock is a good price now if you’re interested in buying shares…”

My body gave out beneath me and I fell back into my chair. 

It couldn’t be.

He hadn’t. There was no way, surely my imagination was making connections where there weren’t any. This was a dream or a nightmare. 

Shawdun Shipping had taken over Farthingham Enterprises from within. It had happened suddenly, recently. Henry had rushed to the continent after he’d seen me and John at the ball, after I’d refused his help. He’d left so hastily poor Margaret and Billy were left unattended. On the day of my wedding, news arrived at the last possible moment telling Farthingham that he was ruined and the marriage was stopped. Still afterward, Henry had been kept away on business, something about Farthingham’s complications affecting his own business. But how could Farthingham’s business failure affect Henry at all, unless--

Oh, if I was right, then all was truly mad in this world. I felt a surge of anger, wild and out of control in my chest.

I couldn’t be right. There had to be some other explanation.

“I say, young sir, are you quite alright?” Doyce was snapping his fingers in front of my face, his expression a mixture of annoyance and concern.

“I am… I am just fine, thank you. I’ll just…” I made to rise, but my legs would not support me. 

“Oh dear, your face is the worst shade of puce, if you don’t mind me saying. Would you like me to call a doctor?”

“No!” I slammed my hands down on the desk, wincing as sensation raced through them. I forced my legs under me and stood. The world tilted on its axis, but I breathed through it, fresh raw fury giving me strength. “I have to--I’m leaving…” I hobbled out of Doyce Stock, Bonds &c. To the yard where I collapsed against a wall. I couldn’t breathe.

It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t.

I had to know.

I lifted a numb arm to hail a carriage.

“The Shawdun residence, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry to leave you in that carriage for a whole week! Also, not so sorry! XD Ahhhh I've been waiting to drop that bomb on y'all for just AGES 😆
> 
> As always, comments are my soul food! Let me know what you think!


	9. What Have You Done?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long overdue talk.
> 
> Note: Please see end notes for an important message!

“Henry!” I ran through the house, trailing an irate butler in my wake. “Henry, explain yourself this--” I ran through the doors and almost collided with Oliver. 

His solemn expression turned surprised as his eyes lit on me, eyebrows raised at my current state.

“Philip?”

“Oliver.”

“Just the man I was hoping to see.” Oliver spoke quietly. Henry stayed where he was, bathed in shadow. I couldn’t see his face.

“Oliver, what--?”

“Philip.” Oliver placed his hands on my shoulders and caught my eye. “Take care of him.”

“What…? Oliver--” But Oliver walked past me and out the door.  _ Take care of him. _ Henry still hadn't moved from his seat.

I took a deep breath. My questions could wait long enough for me to ask.

“Henry?” No response. “Henry, what’s going on?”

A soft, sad chuckle reached me from his shadow behind the desk. “Oliver has made good on his promise to break off our engagement.”

“What?! Henry, did you refuse his request? I’m sure whatever it is, it was--”

“It wasn’t reasonable, and I will not do it, and that is final.” Henry still did not look at me.

“Oh, you stubborn--!” I threw my hands in the air in frustration. “Oliver is the key to your dreams, Henry! You won’t find another like him, I can guarantee that, and you need that match so that your future is secure--” I sounded just like Father, but this was  _ different _ , damn it! I took a deep breath and continued. “What about Margaret, hm? What about Billy? I thought you said you would do  _ anything  _ for them.”

“Not this.” Still Henry would not face me.

_ What evil thing had Oliver asked for already?!  _ “Well, whatever it is, if you can’t do it, let me do it. Tell me what he wanted.”

“I will not. And even if I did, it’s not something you can do.”

“You underestimate me Henry. I am more capable than you think--”

“Philip, it’s not that I underestimate you.” Henry sighed. “Far from it. You just can’t accomplish this one. Please forget about it.”

If frustration could kill a man, I would be dead. “HENRY!” He would see sense. “You  _ will  _ go to Oliver, you will tell him yes.  _ That _ is non negotiable! You have Margaret and Billy’s futures to think about, and I will not see all your hard work be for nothing!” He still did not move, and I couldn’t bear it. I paced the room, too agitated to keep still. “You even agreed to be engaged to me in order to take care of them. And now look at you, turning Oliver down and not a care in the world.” I chuckled bitterly. “If I had known you cared this little you’d better believe I would never have killed a man with my own bare hands--'' I clapped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late.  _ Damn and blast, I am my own worst enemy! _

_ “You what?” _ Henry’s tone was darker than I’d ever heard it. I did not want to face him. “Philip, what did you do?” He didn’t yell it, barely spoke it, but it hit me all the same, a shiver down my spine. In an instant, Henry Shawdun had gone from lifeless to furious.

I backed away. “Nothing, Henry, I was simply--”  _ If this gives him the spirit he needs to take care of his future, then so be it.  _ I straightened my spine, stepped forward and faced him. He was standing now, leaning over his desk; his fists clenched tightly against the wood, his brow dark, his eyes spitting blue fire. “Edmond lied to you because I told him to. I realized what was happening before him and he didn’t get there in time.” I took a deep breath. “ _ I _ killed Jack. Unbelievable, I know, God knows I’m not made for fighting and I almost failed, but I managed. Thank goodness for Mrs. Blethely’s thrice forsaken hat molds and the broken window.”

Henry just looked at me, his face unreadable. It was hard to look into his eyes, but I made myself do it anyway. “Unfortunately, a body crashing through a clothing shop window at midnight generates something of a crowd and with them came a journalist. I had to keep him away from Margaret and Billy so that you--so that they wouldn’t be caught in a scandal. I knew if word got out about them before you could bring them back into the fold your father would find out and forbid it and they would be trapped in that sewing room forever, and your dreams--” I looked away quickly. “Anyway when Edmond arrived, I had him run with Margaret and Billy while I held back the journalist.” I chuckled humorlessly. “Of course, my parents and the Farthinghams arrived at the same time as Emdond had, and, well… they weren’t particularly happy.”

Henry stepped away from his desk toward me. “This is why your wedding was moved forward, isn’t it?” He was breathing heavily. 

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Philip.” Henry’s voice cracked and I looked up at him. He stood right in front of me, hands reaching out to clasp my shoulders. His expression was a storm, but his grasp oh so gentle. “What on earth were you thinking?!”

“I’m sorry?”

“You handed yourself over to  _ Farthingham _ , Philip! Oh, God--” Henry’s grip tightened and he looked away.

I wrestled away from his grip and he let me without resistance. “I beg your pardon, Henry, but I didn’t have many other options at the time!”

“That’s a sacrifice you never should’ve made!” His head was in his hands now, muffling his words.

“Sacri--Oh, Henry Shawdun, don’t you  _ dare _ lecture me about sacrifice!” I rounded on him. He still had his head in his hands. “If you’re going to talk about unnecessary sacrifices, why don’t you tell me all about that  _ administrative error _ , Henry?! What did you do to Farthingham?”

He looked up at me. “Who have you been speaking to?”

“Does it matter?” I threw my hands in the air. “You  _ bought  _ Farthingham Enterprises, Henry! The one place you said you would  _ never _ work with, that your father forbade you to do business with, you bought them out from under Farthingham’s feet! Why?”

He looked away. “I saw a unique business opportunity and I seized it.”

“Unique opportunity, my foot, Henry! And if you dare tell me it was--it better not have been for my sake, because… Because I don’t know what I’ll do if it was!” My heart pounded in my own ears, my voice hoarse. I didn’t know what to think. What to feel. 

Henry didn’t say anything; he simply looked at me. And I knew.

“Damn you, Henry Shawdun!” I couldn’t look at him a moment longer. At his eyes, how they filled with expressions I couldn’t read.  _ He bought Farthingham Enterprises to save me. _ “Damn you,  _ why _ ?”

“What was I to do, Philip?” Henry’s voice was so small then. I folded my arms over my chest and refused to face him. “I know you--your kind heart, your loneliness, how much you love your parents even though they treat you like a commodity to be exchanged at their convenience . How much you wanted to strike out on your own, to prove yourself, to need no one because you didn’t grow up with a Margaret who wouldn’t take you for granted, who would value you as much as you deserve.” I felt Henry step closer and clutched myself tighter. He stopped. “I also know John Farthingham is a bastard, the worst kind of reprobate. He would be utterly savage with you, would take advantage of all the good things about you and  _ destroy _ them into dust until you were left a miserable shell.” He growled, and I knew he was running his hands through his hair. “You’re right, God damn me for not waiting like you told me to, but I  _ couldn’t _ .  _ I wouldn’t let that happen. _ So yes, I bought Farthingham’s disgusting operation right out from under his feet. I ruined him so that your parents would break off the match and leave for the continent and you would have your freedom back.”

I felt a sob ripple through me. I couldn’t speak. The words would not come. I could only wrap my arms tighter around myself as the enormity of what he did washed over me.  _ I wouldn’t let that happen. _

“You pillock…” I reached for something to say that wasn’t  _ Who gave you permission to do that? _

_ I love you. _

_ You see me as so much more than I am and that scares me. _

Henry’s words played again in my head and I startled. “Henry, how do you know my parents would leave for the continent when the engagement was broken?”

I heard Henry inhale sharply.

“Mother and Father’s trip to the continent." My mind raced anew as the pieces fell together. "You  _ made  _ the Welsleys invite them. And the money--” I choked on a bitter laugh. “Father hasn’t won a hand of cards in his life, and suddenly to get such a windfall… I should’ve known.” I whirled to face him, but he did not look at me. “Who stood in for the Maxry’s  _ cousin _ ? Was it Edmond? Oliver?”

“No.” Henry’s tone was colorless. “Your father would recognize them. I hired a man.” He sighed. “If you broke off another engagement there was nothing to stop your parents from simply setting you up again in another match, and they clearly have no scruples as to who it is, so they had to be distracted.” He looked at his hands, at his fists that clenched and unclenched. “So, I made sure they were comfortably provisioned and promised the Welsleys their affairs would be attended to by Shawdun Shipping if in exchange they would take a couple of old friends with them to the continent.” Still his tone was listless, as though he were describing shipping documents. 

My head swam. “And Edmond’s job offer--did you arrange that too? I thought he…” My face was wet, my voice choked. I could barely breathe under the weight of the stone that sat in my chest.

“Edmond has wanted to work with you since before you broke off our engagement. He didn’t offer that to you because he pities you, he offered because he  _ wants  _ to work with you. I had nothing to do with that, and to assume so is an insult to you and him both.”

_ Right. Okay. _ I breathed deeply, struggling to grasp it all. I owed Henry  _ everything. _ Chilton’s reminder rang in my ears.  _ As pointless as it is, I will say thank you.  _ I took a step toward Henry _ I will say thank you and-- _

“I’ll pay you back.” the worlds left my lips and I could not take them back.  _ It’s too much. _

“Philip--”

“No wait.” I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. Thank you, Henry. Thank you so much, I appreciate it more than words can say. But you must allow me to pay you back, I couldn’t stand it if I--”

“Philip, I owe you  _ everything _ .” Henry’s eyes were molten. “A few pounds--”

“ _ Thousands _ of pounds--”

“Philip, you saved Margaret and Billy, twice over!”

“Because you were busy on the continent buying a whole goddamn  _ Enterprise--” _

“A thrice forsaken company is truly  _ nothing _ to repay for what you did for me--”

“That has nothing to  _ do _ with you, Henry! It was Billy and Margaret--”

“You said  _ my dreams _ , Philip.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I said, what matters is it’s done, and you will let me pay--”

“Over my dead body, Philip Mallory.”

We stood right before each other, breathing heavily. I couldn’t look away from him, he was surely the most frustrating, the most infuriating--

I grabbed at his shirt, pulled him down to me. “Mark my words, Henry Shawdun, you will see sense if I have to smack it into you, you stubborn--you, you--” My mouth crashed against his furiously.

I kissed him with all my anger, my frustration, my sadness. My love. I kissed him with everything I had, knowing it might be the last time he would ever let me this close. 

He stood there, frozen against me; he did not kiss me back. I pulled away, eyes still closed, the sensation of him still on my lips. So that was it. I turned my head down. “I’m so sorry. That was.. Terribly rude, and I didn’t ask, and we were in the middle of arguing… Truly I don’t know what came over me--”

Henry’s hands cupped my jaw and lifted it. “Look at me Philip.” My eyes snapped open and I was caught in his gaze. “Did you mean it?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t wish--”

“Philip, did you mean it?!” He was so close, I felt his breath ghost over my lips.

I swallowed. “I did. I don’t--don’t know when it all happened, when I started feeling--so much, for you Henry, but I do. And I apologize--”

“For the love of God, don’t ever be sorry for that.” Henry pulled me forward and pressed his lips to mine.

I had previously kissed Oliver and Edmond. John Farthingham had forced a kiss on me. None of them lit my whole being on fire the way Henry’s mouth on mine did. His hands moved to clutch at my waist and cup the back of my head, fingers twining in my hair, holding me to him as he kissed me, softly, deeply.

This could not be real.

My hands moved hesitantly toward him, grasping again at his shirt, at his hair, at his chest. He was so warm.

Moments, days, years later, we broke the kiss to gasp for air, but he didn’t release me. His hands moved up and down my body until they rested at the nape of my neck, cupping. “Philip, I don’t ever want to hear you mention paying me back again. I think we have both sacrificed more than enough.”

I nodded slowly. My knees were shaking, my body burning and throbbing where his hands had traveled. Sighing, I let myself fall against him, resting my head against his chest, hearing it rise and fall. Hearing his heartbeat. It thundered along madly, just like mine. “You… You feel for me as well, Henry? I thought perhaps…”

“I never stopped loving you, Philip. Not for a day. But I knew the sight of me made you feel trapped and uncomfortable.” He sighed. “It’s why I didn’t tell you what I did. I didn’t want you to feel--”

“Beholden, right? In debt to someone from the past, just when you’re moving forward?” I looked up at him with a small smile.

He huffed, holding me at arms length so he could see me. “So we both kept our secrets for the same reason.”

I nodded, and because I could, I pulled him toward me and kissed him again.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry Oliver broke off your engagement, but… What is it he wanted you to do exactly?”

Henry sighed and shook his head. “It’s no matter.”

“Henry, what?”

He looked away. “He said he refused to marry me… Unless I told you what I had done and proposed to you one last time.” 

“What?”

“Oliver and I agreed to marry because we thought we’d both lost our chance at marrying the person we loved. Since we could not get love, we decided to mutually settle for companionship. But, when he found out that I… Well, when he saw what I had named Farthingham Enterprises after I bought it, and I suppose also knowing what he did about what you had done for me… He said he refused to be the one who stood in the way of my happiness, even if that’s what I thought I wanted.” Henry chuckled. 

“What’s wrong with ACE Co.?”

Henry’s brow rose. “Did Doyce not tell you what ACE stands for?”

“He did, but what does that… Alexander’s Choice Enterprises...” Alexander. My middle name. Henry would know that from our old wedding contract.  _ Alexander’s Choice. Henry had bought me a choice.  _

I couldn't control the almost drunken giggle that escaped me. “Why not Philip?”

“I was  _ trying _ to be subtle.” Henry was smiling, though his cheeks were tinged pink. “Otherwise I would’ve named it Henry Shawdun Loves Philip Mallory Co. and called it a day.”

_ Henry loved me. He’d bled money, risked the people dearest to him. For me.  _

I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face to the joint where his neck met his shoulder, breathing him in. “Henry?”

“Hmm.” His arms locked around me tightly, head leaning against mine.

“Don’t ask me to marry you, please.”

He made to loosen his hold, but I reached out to him, cupped his jaw in my hands and made him meet my eyes.

“I want to get to know you properly, Henry. Not as my fiance, not as Oliver’s fiance. Just you, Henry Shawdun, all your flaws, your stubbornness, your generosity… I don’t think I’m ready yet for marriage, but… I can’t let you go. I tried, and… and Oliver’s left you, so it’s not as though you have someone better to settle for--”

Henry’s mouth descended on mine, silencing me. “Philip, it would make me a happy man indeed to  _ settle  _ for just you.” He leaned his forehead against mine. “But only when you’re ready. And until then, to spend time with you, to learn you better, to stay by your side as you learn yourself better… I could have no greater honor.” He stepped back, and knelt, holding both my hands in his own. “Would you allow me the honor of courting you, Philip?”

I couldn’t look anywhere else. Holding tightly to his hands, I knelt so I mirrored him, a breath away. “If you would allow me the same honor.”

He nodded and I threw my arms around him, my head finding a home again against his chest, his heart. 

“I love you, Henry Shawdun.” I did. I was an independent man, kneeling before a man I loved. In that moment the whole world opened in front of me and I could see myself in it; stronger, happier, fulfilled. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FINALE!! It took donkey's years to get this chapter just right, I really wanted it to emotionally deliver. What do you think?? Next up is the epilogue! 
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: After chapter 10, that's it for this narrative, folks! What would you like to see next?  
> A. Oliver & Edmond's Story--which would be followed by Roland Maxry & [Redacted], followed by Grown Up Billy and James Hawthorn, in that order)  
> B. A different story, from a different world entirely--I have quite a few cooking in my back pocket, many of which I've already started. If this choice is selected, I might do a thing where I publish chapter 1 from a few different stories and let you pick which one becomes the next story.  
> I'm excited for either prospect, so I really can't pick, which means the choice is yours! Each comment for one or the other is a vote, and the voting will be open until January 1, 2021 at midnight (The day after Chapter 10 comes out)!  
> If you really can't decide between the two (IK I've given you almost NO information to work off of) write below, and I can do a thing where I post the first chapter of ALL the options, including Chapter 1 of Oliver and Edmond's story and you can make a choice with just a BIT more information in hand!) I will also be doing a Q&A after publishing chapter 10, so feel free to post any questions in the comments or send me an ask on my Tumblr https://perfectlynervousbeard.tumblr.com/  
> I love you all and it's thanks to all your support that I've managed to get this far ❤️


	10. A New Life

“Uncle Philip! Uncle Philip! You can open your eyes now!”

I opened my eyes and turned. Billy stood in front of me, his small chest puffed out proudly. “Isn’t it the most handsome suit you’ve ever seen, Uncle Philip?”

I laughed. “Truly, Billy, there will not be a single guest at the Spring Fete who could compete with your handsomeness right now.”

“Except you! And Uncle Henry too.” Billy nodded sagely.

“Is that so?” 

“Yes.” Billy gestured me toward him so he could whisper into my ear. “Mama said that he is the most handsomest man she’s ever seen in his suit, but that I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”

I chuckled and stepped back again. “It’ll remain between you and me until I see it then.”

“I have to go back now,” Billy turned toward the door, “I told Mama I would only show you  _ my  _ suit then run back.”

“Best get on with it then, sweetling. I’ll see you soon enough.” My voice caught as I thought about it, and I was glad for Billy’s turned back as he closed the door. He didn’t need to catch my expression and let his mind wander.

There was a mirror in the room, but I dared not look at it.  _ This is it, I chose this, we waited long enough, I am happy about this, delighted even-- _

My eye caught on my own expression in the mirror and I hiccupped.  _ Terrified.  _

The last time I had been standing in such a fashion, I was to be married to a waste of a man who found joy in my suffering. This was different though, this was Henry…

But I still could not shake the fear.

_ This is forever.  _

_ I love him.  _

_ What if we get this all wrong, and then we’re stuck-- _

“Philip.”

I knew that voice. He was supposed to be dressing under Margaret’s watchful care, not here. I didn’t want him to see me like this.

“Henry.” I averted my eyes quickly from the mirror and kept my tone even. “Margaret will be peeved that you aren’t with her dressing.”

Hands clasped my shoulders firmly and turned me around. “I think I’m exactly where I should be right now, Philip.” He wasn’t dressed yet. He wore a simple suit of dove grey, molded exquisitely to his form.

“Look at me, Philip.”

My eyes found his. They were so warm. And worried, just as I’d feared they would be.

“Oh, Henry, it’s not--”

“We have been courting for the better part of a year, love. Please don’t offend me by assuming I can’t read your current expression like an old book. You are terrified.”

“I--Henry, I mean no offense by this, but… I’m so scared.” My throat was so dry, the words would barely come. “What if… What if one day this doesn’t work, that as soon as we are anchored to one another we start to feel trapped, what if this fails, what if… What if one day you grow to hate me?” I couldn’t stop the words, or the tears that followed. “What if we’re making a mistake?”

“I’m firmly convinced that there will be days when we can’t stand the sight of each other. When the very mention of my name will make you want to hurl.” I looked up at Henry, startled. Did he think the same? Then he smiled. “And there will be other days when we will feel so unbelievably in love we will spend the day pinching ourselves, waiting to wake up. And still others where we will feel little more than the warmth of a good friendship.” Henry’s voice was calm, his eyes open and kind. “I don’t think we’re making a mistake, Philip. But if you are not ready, then that is more than enough reason to call off the--”

“We cannot! I will not leave Billy and Margaret in limbo any longer, they have waited long enough to find security--”

“Philip, stop.” Henry’s hands moved from my shoulders, gently up my neck until he cupped my face in his hands. “I will not let you sacrifice yourself, and you had better believe Margaret would smack you round the head with a dress form if she thought you were even entertaining the thought.” His eyes never left mine. “Philip, if we get married today, it is because you feel ready and excited at the prospect of married life, a life with me. Nothing else.”

“I… I am, Henry.” My eyes closed of their own accord and I sank against him. “The prospect of a life with you has been keeping me awake nights, quite beside myself with excitement… Not like  _ that _ ,” I quickly amended, face a furious red as I realized the implications of my words. “Well, perhaps a little like that…” Henry chuckled.

“I’m happy to hear.” Then he pulled back, and I was forced to meet his eyes though I still felt alight with embarrassment. “Philip, the choice is yours. My love for you won’t dim in the slightest if you need to delay the wedding, call it off entirely, banish the practice to the depths of the ocean. My happiness is your happiness, that is all.”

“And your happiness is mine.” I reached out and took his hands in mine, then closed my eyes and breathed deeply. “I think.. I think I needed to hear that, Henry.” I squeezed his hands and he gripped mine back just as firmly. My fears slowly sluiced away, leaving behind only the thrilling rush I’d been feeling the previous night before nerves had banished it away. I opened my eyes and looked Henry firmly in the eye. “I’m ready.”

He looked at me with a raised brow. “You are certain?”

I nodded, unable to keep the smile that bloomed on my face. “Quite certain.” He beamed. “Now leave me be, I still need to dress and seeing me before the ceremony is appallingly bad form, Mr. Shawdun.”

He chuckled and gave my hand one last squeeze. “At any moment, if you need out, you need only say so. I mean it, Philip, I only want this if you do.”

I squeezed it back. “And I want this only if you do.”

He smiled and departed. 

Not a moment after the door shut behind him the opposing door opened, allowing Mary Hawthorne and Philip Chilton. They were both dressed beautifully, Mary in a flowing peach colored gown that was adorned tastefully in flowers with a stunning matching hairpiece and Philip in a slate grey suit, tailored perfectly to his narrow frame yet still utterly outshined by his smile. 

“Well, aren’t you lovers just showing us all up?” Mary beamed at me, belying her own words as she approached, my wrapped suit draped over her arm.

My face warmed again. “How much did you… Oh, nevermind.” Philip chuckled at that. “Let’s get this over with.”

With Mary and Philip’s assistance, I was soon decked out in a forest green suit with tails, and slightly lighter green breeches. Snowy white hose and a hat that matched the suit completed the look.

“Oh, but you look wonderful, my lad.” Philip clasped my shoulders tightly before pulling me into an almost crushing hug. “Like a proper groom.”

“Margaret did a good job with this, alright.” I chuckled, hugging him back.

“No, my lad.” Philip pulled away and looked up at me, his eyes wet. “The suit is right fine, but… You look  _ happy _ .”

“Aye he does that at that.” Mary sighed contentedly, making miniscule adjustments to every corner. “Best not go making him cry and ruin his fineness, eh, Papa?”

“Of course. “Philip chuckled and wiped at his eyes. “Right, let’s go celebrate.”

They each took one of my arms and, on a nod from, walked on either side to the door. I blinked and we were through and in the chapel.

It was a very small chapel, old and well loved and soaked in sunlight. The few pews were almost entirely covered in flowers, and what empty space remained was filled with all the Chilton-Hawthorns, dressed finely and on their best behavior under the watchful eye of Edmond and Oliver. Though perhaps watchful eye wasn’t quite the right word. Edmond and Oliver were positively piled down with children on every side, and looked as though they wouldn’t slant an angry eye at any of them even by force. They turned as I walked in and I heard Eliza sigh audibly as they rose in their seats.

I passed quickly by the empty seats so I could reach them, and stopped walking. There was no music, no rhythm. Oliver stepped forward and grasped my hand, beaming.

“You look resplendent, Philip, truly!”

Edmond nodded warmly and stepped forward as well. “Henry is a lucky man, my friend. Though if you aren’t ready to make an honest man of him just yet, he has instructed me to be in charge of the getaway carriage.” He winked as he spoke and I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me. 

“Thank you both for coming.” 

“Uncle Philip, you look even grander than the ball dress!” Simon called from the farther end of the pews.

“I think I still liked the big dress more, because it swished, but you are very han-hansum.” Little Mary reached a hand out to poke at my suit. I squeezed her hand.

“I’m very grateful, Mary.” I turned to the assembled family. “Wish me luck, everyone?”

A chorus of well wishes followed me the rest of the way up to a dais, equally bedecked in flora, where an old priest waited patiently. He smiled kindly at me, then turned to the doors that would be allowing Henry into the chapel. Heart in my throat, I turned to look as well.

The door opened slowly and he emerged, Margaret and Billy on either side. 

He was walking toward me. His suit was a navy blue, and he too wore a matching hat. I looked at his face and startled slightly. He was already looking at me, through me, the look in his eyes more than I had ever seen, capturing me, holding me there. I couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. I wanted to stare into that gaze for the rest of my life, be held there, and hold him to me in turn. 

Time slowed as he stepped toward me, toward our future. I forgot how to breathe as I waited. And then, suddenly he stood right in front of me.

“Shall we begin?” The priest’s light voice floated toward us.

Henry clasped my hands in his, eyes bright as he regarded me. 

I nodded, my heart afloat with joy, hope, love. “I’m ready, Henry Shawdun. I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truly from the bottom of my heart, I thank each and every one of your who followed me until the end. I didn't think I could actually finish a full-length story, and it was your encouragement and your kind words that bolstered me, inspired me, and when necessary pushed me to keep going and make sure Philip and Henry's story was told ❤️
> 
> As always, I am delighted to hear all your thoughts, both on the last chapter and the narrative as a whole! (when I say "I am delighted" what I mean is I AM DYING TO HEAR EVERYTHING!!!!)
> 
> 1 DAY EXTENSION TO VOTE!!  
> A. Oliver & Edmond's Story--which would be followed by Roland Maxry & [Redacted], followed by Grown Up Billy and James Hawthorn, in that order)  
> B. A different story, from a different world entirely--I have quite a few cooking in my back pocket, many of which I've already started. If this choice is selected, I might do a thing where I publish chapter 1 from a few different stories and let you pick which one becomes the next story.  
> I'm excited for either prospect, so I really can't pick, which means the choice is yours! Each comment for one or the other is a vote, and the voting will be open until January 1, 2021 at midnight (The day after Chapter 10 comes out)!  
> If you really can't decide between the two (IK I've given you almost NO information to work off of) write below, and I can do a thing where I post the first chapter of ALL the options, including Chapter 1 of Oliver and Edmond's story and you can make a choice with just a BIT more information in hand!) I will also be doing a Q&A after publishing chapter 10, so feel free to post any questions in the comments or send me an ask on my Tumblr https://perfectlynervousbeard.tumblr.com/


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